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COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr 



By William S. Thomas 

Hunting Big Game with Gun and with Kodak 
Trails and Tramps in Alaska and Newfoundland 



G. P. Putnam's Sons 

New York London 




V 

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a 

OS 

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TRAILS AND TRAMPS 

IN ALASKA AND 

NEWFOUNDLAND 



By 



WILLIAM S. THOMAS 

W 
AUTHOR OF " HUNTING BIG GAME WITH GUN AND KODAK' 



WITH ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-SEVEN 

ILLUSTRATIONS FROM ORIGINAL 

PHOTOGRAPHS 



> 1 J 



G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

NEW YORK AND LONDON 

Ebe "ftnichcrbocker press 



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Copyright, 1913 

BY 

WILLIAM S. THOMAS 



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ttbc Tftnfclicrbocfter ipresa, 1Rew Bocit 



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MY WIFE 

WHO SHARED NONE OF THE PLEASURES OF THE TRAIL AND BORE 
ALL THE ANXIETIES FOR MY RETURN. 



PREFACE 

The matter here submitted has been ac- 
cumulated upon several hunting trips in the 
wilderness, and many excursions from time 
to time into the woods and fields about home. 
The author has for some years kept more or 
less extensive field notes, and has taken nu- 
merous photographs of objects, scenes, or 
incidents by the way. 

Not all of the narrative is concerned with 
the chase, but all has to do with, or is in some 
way attributable to, the wanderlust that from 
boyhood days has cast its spell over the author 
at uncertain intervals, and from time to time, 
has compelled a pilgrimage nearer or farther 
into the regions of that freedom found only 
where man is not. 

If in the heart of the reader it sets vibrating 
again some chord once sounded by the breath 
of the forest, or stirs to harmony some strings 



vi Preface 

hitherto not attuned to the music of the great 
outdoors, the mission of this volume will not 
have been vain, for it will then have assisted 
in a modest way the interpretation of that 
medium of expression of which Bryant has 
said, 

' ' To him who in the love of nature holds 

Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 

A varied language." 

W. S. T. 

Pittsburgh, Pa., 
March, 1913. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER PAGE 

I Cruising and Hunting in Southeast- 
ern Alaska ..... i 

II Observations on Kodiak Island. . 64 

III Hunting Big Game on the Kenai 

Peninsula . . . . .123 

IV A Trip to Newfoundland . . .181 
V Hunting with a Ferret . . . 222 

VI A Night Hunt ..... 238 

VII In the Springtime .... 247 

VIII A Plea for Protection . . . 305 



Vll 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



PAGE 



Mother 'Possum and her Family 


Frontispi 


ece 


Ketchikan 


3 


Myriads of Salmon 






5 


"Father" Duncan 






7 


Metlakatla 






8 


Guest House 






9 


"Father" Duncan's Church 






10 


Where the Indians Roamed 






II 


Street Scene in Metlakatla 






12 


Metlakatla Belles . 






13 


Indians Cheering the Secretary 




15 


Totems at Sitka .... 




i8 


Indian War Canoe 




20 


Petersburg. .... 




22 


Streams of Crystal Water 




• 23 


Lighthouse near Dixon's Entrance 




. 26 


Sitka 




27 


Priests of the Greek Church at Sitka 


28 


Fairweather Range . 


, 




• 30 



IX 



X 



Illustrations 



PAGE 



Upper Ice Fields .... 


31 


The Author Looking into a Crevasse 


33 


Native Women Trading 


35 


Mother and Babe .... 


• 36 


Playing in the Sand .... 


37 


Native Boys out Gunning . 


• 38 


Sunset near St. Elias 


■ 39 


Cape St. Elias 


• 41 


Hinchinbrook Island .... 


44 


Valdez after the Flood 


45 


Bruin in a Steel Trap 


. 46 


Salmon Running up Stream to Spawn 


• 49 


Killing Fish with a Club . 


50 


Gulls Feeding on Salmon . 


51 


A Good Fisherman .... 


52 


Dogs Fishing for Salmon . 


53 


Indian Hut 


55 


Indian Graves 


56 


Indian Women Repairing the Bidarka 


57 


Sunrise 


60 


Our Permanent Camp 


61 


An Island near Valdez 


65 


Sea Lion Rocks 


67 


Seward 


68 


Seldovia 


69 



Illustrations 


xi 




PAGE 


Turbulent Shellicoff 


71 


The Ravens 


72 


KODIAK 


79 


Gull Island 


80 


Forget-me-nots ..... 


81 


Crow's Nest and Young 


82 


Nests of Eagle and Magpie 


83 


Eagle Watching for Prey . 


85 


Eagle's Nest and Young 


86 


First Sight of Day .... 


88 


Sea Parrot Incubating 


90 


Sea Parrot's Nest and Egg. 


91 


Characteristic Nest of " Gygis " 


93 


Nest and Eggs of Herring Gull 


94 


Our Camp among the Cottonwoods 


97 


An Extinct Crater where the Bear Hiber 


- 


NATE ...... 


lOI 


Where he fell ..... 


103 


Stretched Bear Skins. 


105 


Indian Barabara ..... 


108 


KoDiAK Island Pinks .... 


109 


Kenai River ..... 


129 


Lining the Boat ..... 


133 


Mid-day on the Kenai 


137 


"Porky" 


141 



xii Illustrations 






PAGE 


The Tonsorial Artist at Work . 


• 144 


Ready for the Start .... 


• 147 


Approaching the Low Pass . 


• 149 


Home of the White Sheep . 


• 151 


Seeking a Ford ..... 


• 155 


Ptarmigan 


. 167 


A Bath in Lake Skilak 


■ 174 


Bay of Islands 


185 


Constructing a Raft .... 


186 


One Took to the Woods 


. 187 


One of the Others .... 


. 188 


Trailing Arbutus .... 


190 


Spotted Sandpiper's Nest . 


192 


Merganser's Nest .... 


194 


Nest of Wilson's Thrush . 


195 


Learning to Swim .... 


199 


Out for Themselves .... 


200 


Learning to Walk .... 


201 


Reflections 


202 


Radiant Splendor .... 


206 


Whiskey Jack 


208 


Nest and Eggs of the White-Throated 




Sparrow 


209 


Bunchberries 


213 


The "Steady" 


215 



Illustrations 



Xlll 



Solitude ...... 

Breakfast Head on the Humber River 

Color Blending . 

Putting in the Ferret 

His Last Nibble . 

In Hot Pursuit . 

Picked up . 

Down the Old Fence . 

The Dog Listening to the Last Sound 

Did he Come out? 

The Hunting Party 

Dog and Coon in the Mix-up 

Home of the Cardinal 

Cardinal's Nest and Eggs . 

Winter in the North . 

Indigo Bunting's Nest with Cowbird's Egg 

The Young Interloper 

A Well-Constructed Home 

Madam Vireo at Home 

The Usurper 

Young Flickers . 

Nest and Eggs of Tanager 

Little Green Heron's Nest 

Little Green Heron's Nest 

Leaving the Nest 



PAGE 
217 

219 

224 

226 

229 

230 

231 

233 

235 
236 

239 

244 
249 
252 

254 
256 

258 

259 
260 

262 

265 

267 

268 

269 

270 



XIV 



Illustrations 



Nest and Eggs of Grosbeak 

Nestlings .... 

Fledglings 

Tom at the Nest . 



Nest and Eggs of Blue-Gray Gnat-Catcher 276 



Nest and Young of Goldfinch 

Red-Spotted Purple Butterfly on Queen 
Anne's Lace 

Young Goldfinch 

Nest of Red-Wing Blackbird 

Young Red-Wing Blackbirds 

Homes of the Cliff Swallows 

Nest of the Song Sparrow . 

A Tragedy in Nature 

Wood-Thrush 

Nest and Eggs of WoodThrush 

Up a Stump 

Wood-Thrush's Nest with Young 

Nest and Eggs of American Redstart. 

Lady Redstart and her Home 

Nest and Eggs of Blue- Winged Warbler 

Young Woodpeckers Foraging . 

Nest and Eggs of the Thrasher 

On Night Turn . 

Young Thrasher. .... 



PACK 

273 
274 

275 



277 

278 
280 
282 
283 
285 
287 
288 
289 
290 
291 
292 
294 

295 
296 
297 
299 

301 



Illustrations 



XV 



A Delightful Place . 
Caught ..... 
Nest and Eggs of Ruffed Grouse 
Not Certain .... 
A Sure Point .... 
Orchard Nest of Mourning Dove 
Two Little Turtle- Doves . 



PAGE 
306 

315 

317 

318 

320 



'H 



Trails and Tramps in 
Alaska and Newfoundland 



CHAPTER I 

CRUISING AND HUNTING IN SOUTHEASTERN 

ALASKA 

|N the midst of the rustHng and bustHng 
■^ on the pier, the creaking of the block and 
tackle, and the hoisting of the duffel, could 
be heard the loud, clear voice of the mate 
resounding in the evening twilight, "Heave 
to!" "That 's well," and similar expressions, 
all preparatory to our departure for the far- 
away North, the land of glaciers, gold, and 
fish. In the crowd were many sorts and 
conditions of men — and not the least in evi- 
dence were the sturdy Norseman and the 
Scottish clansman, — some on pleasure bent, 
some in search of the mighty beasts of the 
forest, still others seeking their fortune in 



2 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

the vast gold-fields stretching on and on 
into the great unknown beyond the Arctic 
Circle. 

Among the ever-changing groups of human- 
ity, my attention was attracted to one, the 
center of which was a young man about one 
and twenty. As the time drew near for our 
departure, around him gathered four or five 
young ladies, who to all appearances were in 
sore distress. An only brother, perhaps, was 
about to leave home and friends to seek his 
fortune in the Land of the Midnight Sun. 
The old father, grizzled and gray, stood by 
with dejected countenance and folded hands, 
the very picture of despair. Presently one 
of the girls — the boy's sweetheart, as I after- 
wards learned, — unable longer to stand the 
strain, threw her arms about her lover and 
wept bitterly. What expressions of sadness 
upon the faces of those left behind as the 
lamplight casts its pallid rays over them! 
And now one staggers and falls into the arms 
of a friend. Then what a look of grief upon 
the face of the young man peering over the 
ship's rail! Such is the pathos of life at 
every turn, could we but see it. 

On board the steamer was the Hon. Walter 
L. Fisher, Secretary of the Interior, and his 
party, consisting of his son Walter, Alfred 




a 

at 

•a 

u 



to 



4 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

H. Brooks, of the Geological Surveys Com- 
mittee, Governor W. E. Clark of Alaska, and 
reporters of various newspapers. Their mis- 
sion was to investigate the condition and wants 
of the people of Alaska. The genial and 
pleasant old sea-dog. Captain Michael Jansen, 
was at the helm as the steamer wedged her 
way towards the north. 

For some two hundred miles we skirted 
the eastern shore of Vancouver Island, lined 
to the water's edge with hemlock, spruce, and 
cedar, through which occasionally bluish- 
white streaks of water came tumbling down 
the mountain-side, each adding its own 
particular charm to the scenery. The Eng- 
lish Government has erected along the coast 
many lighthouses for the protection of navi- 
gation, but after we passed through Dixon's 
Entrance into Uncle Sam's domain, very few 
of these were to be seen. Oru Government 
seems to have given too little attention to 
this matter. 

The first stop on the way north was 
Ketchikan, a little village nestled snugly at 
the foot-hills, with its hospital, saloons, and 
all the usual adjuncts of a mining town. It 
has a population of some five hundred souls, 
whose principal occupation consists of fishing 
and mining. The most interesting thing to 




a 
o 

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<a 



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6 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

sightseers was a stroll up the boardwalk laid 
along a narrow winding stream that has its 
origin in the snow-capped mountains. Pitch- 
ing, tossing, and foaming it hurried down the 
narrow gulch, seeking its level in the briny- 
deep. It was alive with myriads of salmon, 
jumping and leaping in their mad rush to 
the spawning ground. 

In the dawn of the following morning the 
boat plowed its way through the green waters 
of the Strait toward Annette Island, a strip 
of land covered to the water's edge with 
fir and cedar trees. The island is some 
six miles long, and at the extreme end, on 
a small, gently sloping plateau, is the 
little town of Metlakatla, which boasts a 
population of about a thousand persons. It 
has its own canneries, saw-mills, and other 
industries, and the people seem to be happy 
and contented. At the head of the colony 
is Rev. William Duncan, who has done much 
for the uplift of the many tribes of Indians 
in this locality. 

"Father" Duncan relates that more than 
half a century ago, when a young man of 
twenty-five, he was living in England. Upon 
his ordination as a minister of the Established 
Church, Alaska, was assigned him as the field 






Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 7 

of his future Hfe-work, His passage was 
paid and he arrived at Victoria after a nine- 
months trip. The old man was very much 
agitated in relating his early experience. On 
reaching Victoria, he of course desired to 




Father Duncan 



enter at once upon his active duties, but the 
head official of the town and the captain of 
the boat used every means in their power to 
persuade him from going among the Indians, 
urging that they were bloodthirsty savages 
and would surely kill him. He told them 
that he was assigned to the field by the 
Board and could not think of changing his 
plan without an order from his superiors, to 



8 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

procure which would require at least two 
years. He must get to his labor of love 
right away. However, he made one request 
of the officer in charge of the fort, and it was 
this: he would like to spend about nine 




Metlakatla 



months with them in the stockade, and 
wished they would send for the brightest 
young man of the most powerful tribe, so 
that he might learn the language before going 
among the savages. They granted his re- 
quest, and in nine months he was read}^ to 
deliver his first sermon. 

The Indians were divided into various 
tribes, each at war with the other. He 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 9 

thought if he could succeed in getting the 
chiefs together and could tell them the Word 
of God in their own language, he would more 
readily win their confidence and esteem. So 
he requested his interpreter to call together 




Guest House 



all the chiefs to one central point, where he 
would deliver his first sermon. " But oh ! " he 
said, "when I saw before me the assembled 
braves, decorated in all the colors of the 
rainbow, my courage left me, and turning 
to my teacher, I begged of him to deliver 
the message I had so carefully prepared to 
the gathered tribesmen. But he positively 
refused, and told me his intrusion might 



10 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 




cause a war, for the tribes were very jealous 
of the power and influence of their neigh- 
bors. Then I took courage and when I had 

spoken, oh! 
what an effect 
i t had upon 
them! Bodies 
were rigid and 
eyes seemed as 
though they 
would pierce me 
through and 
through. The 
results were 
striking. They 
gathered around 
in little groups, 
earnestly dis- 
cussing the 
truths made 
known to them 
and wondering 
who could be and whence came this strange 
white man who spoke their own tongue. 

"From that day I became absorbed in my 
work. For thirty years I labored among 
them at Old Metlakatla, when one day I was 
told that the natives did not own the land 
and that the title was vested in the Queen of 



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'Father" Duncan's Church 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska ii 

England. The Indians could not understand 
how a sovereign whom they had never seen 
could own the land over which they and their 




Where the Indians Roamed 



ancestors had roamed for centuries, fishing, 
hunting, and trapping. 



" I went down to Vancouver to examine into 
the matter, and the Premier and Attorney- 
General advised me that such was the case. 
I was fearful lest when the Indians learned 
this fact they would go on the war-path and 
kill every white man in the country. I wrote 
a long letter to them explaining conditions 



12 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

and saying that I would be back home to 
Old Metlakatla as soon as I could. Shortly 
afterwards, much to my surprise, a committee 
came to Vancouver to confer with me. When 
I saw them I was greatly excited for fear 




street Scene in Metlakatla 



they had decided upon war. When I in- 
quired of them what had been done at the 
meeting, they refused to tell me, so that I 
was considerably worried over the matter. 
Although it was late in the evening, I went 
immediately to the Attorney-General's home 
to advise him of the situation. I told him 
I would give him all the information I had 
that evening, but to-morrow, after I had 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 13 

learned the action taken, I could not divulge 
a single word. I did not sleep much that 
night, and in the morning, when I met the 




Metlakatla Belles 



committee, imagine my relief when they 
told me they had decided to leave English 
territory and seek a new home under 
the Stars and Stripes. Shortly after that 
I went to Washington to arrange matters, 
if possible, for a new location. I finally 
succeeded; the United States Government 
gave Annette Island to my people for 



14 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

their home, and here we have built the 
new M et lakat la . " 

"Father" Duncan does not believe in 
educating the Indian children as they are 
taught at Carlisle and similar institutions. 
Once while he was visiting Carlisle at Com- 
mencement time, the orator of the day 
advised a graduating class to go out among 
the white people and do as the whites did. 
Speaking of the occasion, he remarked: "I 
thought as I listened, 'Oh, what a mistake 
for them to leave their fathers and mothers, 
now too old to work, and become worthless 
and idle, unfitted for the duties of life!'" 
With deep emotion the old man pointed 
across the woods toward the cemetery, and 
said: "Over yonder lie the remains of about 
thirty young men, the pick of their tribe, 
who attended such schools, adopted the 
white man's mode of living, and contracted 
tuberculosis, to which they fall ready victims. 
They are by nature so constituted that they 
require outdoor life and outdoor exercise." 

While "Father" Duncan was talking, the 
Secretary of the Interior came out of the Town 
Hall, where he had been holding a conference 
with the Town Council, and he and "Father" 
Duncan walked down the boardwalk toward 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 15 

the cannery and from there to the boat. As 
the steamer was about to depart, the passen- 
gers gave three rousing cheers for the grand 
old man who had spent fifty-five years of 
useful life among these simple children of 




Indians Cheering the Secretary 

nature. Scarcely had the echo of the last 
cheer resounded from the hills about the bay, 
when, as the steamer left the wharf, the 
Indians gave three mightier cheers for the 
Secretary and another three for Governor 
Clark. 

About midnight of the third day the fog- 
horn began to blow, repeating the blast 
every ten minutes or more, and the engine 



i6 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

bells tinkled, tinkled all through the night. 
Sleep being out of the question, we were up 
early the next morning, and to our great 
surprise were informed by the pilot that 
the Wizard of the Northern Sea had been 
caught in the fog and had traveled scarcely 
a mile; in fact, we were obliged to return 
from the Narrows and wait for the fog to lift. 
As the old pilot expressed it: "Great Golly! 
it was a bad night, without a place to throw 
the anchor and the current running miles an 
hour." The old sea-dog had a fine face, 
carved with stem lines. As he related with 
his Danish accent the stories of how two 
men-of-war and several other vessels had met 
their doom in those waters, hundreds on 
board going down, the little group was all 
attention. Even as he talked, he pointed 
out the partly concealed rocks where the 
men-of-war had met their fate, and over 
which the water now broke in innocent-look- 
ing ripples. 

After thirteen hoiu*s waiting for flood-tide 
and the lifting of the fog, we steamed slowly 
through Wrangel Narrows. What a sight 
as the sun dispelled the fog! I have seen at 
night in a puddling mill a ball of molten metal 
on its way from the furnace to the "squeezers " 
and, when "soused" with water, emitting 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 17 

a blue flame and vapor. The sun at Wrangel 
Narrows was such a ball of molten metal, 
while the fog clinging to the leeward side of 
the mountain peaks was the vapor, and the 
peaks and crags with heads towering far 
above the clouds were the stacks and beams 
of a monster mill. Occasionally as we glide 
along, aquatic birds soar through the air in 
search of their morning meal ; blackfish sport 
in the water, their fins cutting the surface 
as they disappear into the depths; and now 
a little snipe, flying around and around, 
trying to alight on the vessel, causes a stir 
among the passengers. A short distance 
away appears the head of a seal, evidently 
in search of its prey, and the leaping fish tell 
the rest of the story. How many things 
appeal to the lover of nature ! 

On account of the swift current and con- 
cealed rocks, the Narrows can be navigated 
with safety only in daylight, and I learned 
that the policy issued by marine insurance 
companies contains a clause under which no 
recovery can be had in event of accident to a 
steamer while passing through the Narrows 
by night. 

Here and there lay an old hull cast high 
and dry on the rocks, after being tossed and 
pitched about in the powerful currents until 



1 8 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

it was battered and broken out of all resem- 
blance to a boat. The old Portlayid was 
pointed out in the distance, not yet a com- 
plete wreck, her mast erect, hull submerged. 




Totems at Sitka 



and the breakers booming and splashing over 
her. A feeling of sadness came over at least 
one of the party at the pleasant recollections 
of a former hunting trip made on the Port- 
land with the big-hearted and greatly beloved 
Captain Moore, who has since passed over 
the Great Divide. 

Wrangel, the next port of entry, was reached 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 19 

in due time. To the tourists the most note- 
worthy objects are the totem-poles. Indian 
totem-poles are erected in even the smallest 
Indian settlements along the coast as far 
north as Sitka. Visitors are always interested 
in their picturesque carving. All kinds of 
grotesque figures of birds, animals, and fish 
are cut into the smooth surface of trees after 
the bark is removed. Contrary to what 
seems to be a very general belief, the na- 
tives do not worship totem-poles as idols, but 
regard them as a sort of family register. 
When a great event takes place, in order that 
it may be commemorated, they erect a totem; 
a successful hunter in the tribe becomes well 
known for his deeds of valor, — straightway 
he selects a family crest and up goes his totem, 
tinted with all the colors of the rainbow. 
Sometimes the poles illustrate legends handed 
down from generation to generation, — the 
stories and traditions of this simple-minded 
people. Ages ago, according to "Father" 
Duncan, the Indians adopted totems or crests 
to distinguish the social clans into which the 
race is said to be divided, and each clan is 
represented symbolically by some character, 
such as the finback whale, the grizzly bear, 
the frog, the eagle, etc. All Indian children 
take the crest of their mother and they do 



20 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

not regard the members of their father's 
family as relatives. Therefore a man's heir 
or his successor is not his own son, but his 
sister's son. Not often can an Indian be 




Indian War Canoe 

persuaded to rehearse to a stranger the story 
represented by the carvings on a pole. Here 
is a legend which is told of one totem-pole: 
A very long time ago an old chief with his 
wife and two small children pitched his wig- 
wam at the mouth of a stream when the 
salmon were running to spawn. The old 
squaw, in order to get some spruce boughs 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 21 

with which to gather salmon eggs, pushed 
her bidarka, or sealskin boat, into the water, 
and telling her two little papooses to get into 
the boat, paddled them across the stream. 
As she pulled the bidarka up on the other 
shore she instructed the children to remain 
in the boat till she returned. She came back 
in a short time with her load, only to discover 
that the children were gone. Many times 
she called to them, but always they answered 
to her from the woods with the voices of crows, 
and when she tried to follow them they would 
keep calling to her from some other direction. 
She returned to the boat again, gave up the 
children for lost, and going back to the wigwam 
reported to the chief that an old white trapper 
with a big beard had carried away the two 
little children. To commemorate this event 
they had a totem-pole carved to show the 
beard of the white trapper, and frequently 
point it out as an example to refractory 
children. 

Our next stop was at Petersburg, a typical 
Alaskan town, with its cannery, saw-mill, 
and myriads of herring gulls on the wing and 
on the water. The old totem-poles which 
had stood for many, many years, worn almost 
smooth by the constant beating of the ele- 



22 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

ments, excited a great deal of curiosity, and 
made one wish for some occult power where- 
with to read the mysteries of the past. At 
one pole the party, consisting of several 
doctors, was much absorbed, and after con- 




Petersburg 



siderable study deciphered the figure of an 
old witch doctor carved on the top and below 
it what seemed to be a squaw, which they 
interpreted as very suggestive of the opera- 
tion of laparotomy. 

A few miles from Petersburg we saw the 
first ice floe with its deep marine coloring, 
floating slowly towards the open sea. Two 
days and nights of continual rain were very 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 23 

oppressive and trying on sociability, but 
when the welcome sun reappeared, how 
enjoyable was the contrast ! The mountain- 
sides in the foreground, clad with verdure 




Streams of Crystal Water 



from the base half-way to the snowy summit, 
had for a background the arched dome of 
the heavens, filled with vari-colored clouds. 
Here and there streams of crystal water 
coursed down the mountain-side, whence each 
took a final leap over the rocks into the 
boiling and seething maelstrom, throwing 
spray in every direction. 



24 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

An interesting visit was had to the Tread- 
well mine, where the voice of man could not 
be heard above the noise of the many stamp 
mills pounding away, crushing the low-grade 
ores. At six o'clock the day shift is leaving 
the mines and the night force entering. As 
the up cage discharges its load of human 
freight the down cage is ready, packed so 
tightly that it would be almost impossible 
for a passenger to turn sideways. Down 
into the perpendicular shaft for several hun- 
dred feet the miners descended, and from 
there they scattered through the entries 
drifted out underneath the bay, where the 
best paying rock is to be found. 

Juneau, the capital of Alaska, almost di- 
rectly across from the mines, was our next 
stopping-place. The deck hands, at the com- 
mand of the first officer, threw out the gang- 
plank. Before it was rightly adjusted, the 
crowd was waiting eagerly to get ashore. 
The dock was wet and slippery, for it was 
raining as usual, the low-hanging clouds 
shutting out the view of the snow-covered 
mountain-tops in the background. All hunt- 
ers in the party made straightway for the 
Governor's office to secure licenses at fifty 
dollars apiece, which entitled each one to 
shoot two bull moose. But in order that a 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 25 

trophy may be brought out of Alaska, the 
Act of Congress makes it obligatory to pay 
an additional fee of one hundred and fifty 
dollars. It seems to me absurd to permit 
the killing of moose and to encourage leaving 
the trophies where they fall. A subsequent 
experience on the Kenai River bore out this 
conclusion very forcibly. On the river we 
came across a party of hunters from Texas 
who had killed a very large moose having a 
noble spread of horn. The body was left 
to rot on the shore. One of our party who 
did not care to shoot would gladly have taken 
the trophy home to decorate his den, but the 
one hundred and fifty dollars was strictly 
prohibitory. I am satisfied this party killed 
several moose and left them because the 
trophies would not justify the additional 
cost of bringing them out. 

We spent several hours in Juneau send- 
ing cablegrams and watching a black bear 
chained in the middle of the main street. 
He was walking around and around, as 
though guarding the entrance to the town. 
Every person passing kept a safe distance, 
but occasionally a visitor unawares ap- 
proached too near and afforded fun for 
the onlookers when he made a desperate 
get-away. 



26 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

Leaving Juneau the boat turned south 
quite a distance in order to reach Sitka. Some 
time was lost waiting for high tide before we 
could get through the Narrows, full tide being 
about eleven o'clock p.m. The night was 



■-'SY-^SPrT'.S'WlJ 




Lighthouse near Dixon's Entrance 

very dark and the fog thick, making it difficult 
to keep the boat in the channel. As the old 
Dane afterwards said, we could keep our 
course only by noting the echo of the fog-horn 
as it reverberated among the distant hills; 
but with great skill we were taken safely 
through, and when morning dawned clear 
and bright, we found we were fast approaching 
Sitka. Many interesting things were to be 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 27 

seen from the deck as we gHded over the 
water. The reflection of the mountains was 
beautiful and one could scarcely distinguish 
the real shore line. Here and there an old 
bald eagle {Ilaliaetiis leucocephaliis) stood 




Sitka 

sentinel on some dead tree-top, while the 
great blue heron {Ardea herodias) waded 
along the edge of the water in search of 
something to eat. Thus we were entertained 
for hours as we neared Sitka. About noon 
the shrill blast of the whistle reminded us 
that the town was in sight. Just as soon as 
the gang-plank was lowered there was a rush 



28 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

for shore, and every person was on his way 
to see the sights of Sitka. 

The town was founded in 1 799 by Governor 
Baranoff, a Russian explorer, and is beauti- 
fully situated on Baranoff Island. The old 




Priests of the Greek Church at Sitka 

Russian Greek church stood there just as it 
did a hundred years before, with the excep- 
tion of a new coat of paint, and the priests 
were in their church garb as of yore. Tourists 
always visit the old church to see the magnifi- 
cent Madonna and other paintings brought 
over from Russia in the last century. On 
the main street stands the old log-cabin 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 29 

erected many years ago by the Hudson Bay 
Company and used as a trading post. The 
Government has set aside a reservation for 
a pubHc park, and many totem -poles have 
been set up all along the roadway. Indian 
squaws were squatted on the dock selling 
their little trinkets, such as miniature totem- 
poles, sealskin moccasins, and vases carved 
in many forms. 

While leaving Sitka the picturesque snow- 
crowned Mount Edgecumbe serrated the 
horizon on the left, and on the right the sky- 
line was much the same. Both shores were 
advancing nearer and nearer, and it looked as 
though we were in a cul-de-sac. Presently 
we passed through Icy Straits, so named 
because of the many icebergs which, broken 
from a neighboring glacier, find their way 
hither. 

As we reached the open ocean, "Gony, " 
as the sailors call the black-footed albatross 
(Diomedea nigripes), followed in the wake 
of the steamer, porpoise raced with us, rushing 
and dodging alongside the boat, occasionally 
turning their silver bellies skyward and flaunt- 
ing their tails to show how easy it was for them 
to keep up with us. The race continued at 
intervals for more than an hour before they 
disappeared, and by that time the long swells 



30 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

of the water rocking the steamer had taken 
effect and many of the passengers disappeared 
from the decks. Many miles to the right 
the purple foothills of the Fairweather range 
could be seen. Muir glacier glittering in the 




JBStS^^ 



Fairweather Range 

distance added to the fascination of the 
scenery. Along the coast wild strawberries, 
with their delicate flowers, their fruit sought 
alike by man, beast, and fowl, grew very 
abundantly. The weather was just fine and 
the conditions right (something unusual in 
this neighborhood) to see the great Mount 
St. Elias, at least a hundred and fifty miles 
due north, and her English cousin, Mount 
St. Logan, farther off across the border line. 




a> 
o 



(U 



n 



32 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

The Fairweather range extends for many 
miles along the coast. The white ice fields 
glitter in the sunshine and at sunset a halo 
of many colors hangs over the mountains. 
Alaska seems to be a chosen land for glaciers. 
The warm Japan stream washes the coast 
line, the topography of which is well adapted 
to fashion glaciers out of the heavy snowfall 
precipitated by the cooling of the humid air 
as it strikes the mountains. When the lofty 
summits and surrounding fields have ac- 
cumulated more snow than they are able to 
retain, it gradually advances toward the 
valleys. When it leaves the summit it is 
soft and flaky, but alternate thawing and 
freezing gradually change its condition into 
a granulated form of ice. The pressure of 
the great body of snow above, the change 
of the atmospheric conditions, assisted by 
gravity, are the causes which enter into the 
formation of the solid glacier ice. These 
conditions may be increased or diminished 
by earthquakes and mild winters. Like a 
great river it advances toward the mouth of 
the valley, and as the immense body of ice 
moves downward, it brings with it by erosion 
huge pieces of rock, earth, and trees. This 
debris thrown upon the ice is called moraine, 
and where the moraine gathers the thickest 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 33 

it protects the ice. When the hot summer 
sun thaws the unprotected ice, tiny streamlets 
flow from here and there. These gradually 
increase in number and size, and as they 
grow larger and larger cut their way down 




The Author Looking into a Crevasse 

into the ice, forming deep crevasses, and 
finally reach bedrock. The interior color 
of the crevasses is a deep blue and this changes 
to a light blue at the outer edge where ex- 
posed to light. Standing on the brink one 
can throw a huge boulder into the opening 
and hear it rumbling for some time before 
it reaches the bottom. A glacier that is 



34 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

receding slowly is known locally as a dead 
glacier, and one advancing as a live glacier. 
However, a live glacier may become a dead 
one, and vice versa. A dead glacier has 
frequently readvanced after years of inac- 
tivity, carrying with it trees which had grown 
up in its course. Columbia glacier in Prince 
William Sound is an example of this type. 

A tiny snowflake falls on the mountain- 
top, is covered in turn by many others, and 
disappears for many years. Gradually the 
whole mass, by its own weight, is pushed 
down into the valley and solidified. Not a 
ray of light can penetrate through the thick 
glacier ice; the little snowflake has been 
completely immured. After years, perhaps 
centuries, it finally reappears at sea level, 
with myriads of others of its kind congealed 
into one solid mass, which breaks off and 
floats seaward, clothed in beautiful blue. 
But it is such a cold, heartless beauty, for 
until melted away the little snowflake is 
part of a tremendous mass, whose weight 
and silent progress are a constant and dreaded 
menace to human life; many a steamer has 
been sunk by striking an iceberg. 

At the head of Yakut at Bay is situated the 
Indian village of Yakutat. It has its cannery 
and saw-mill and village church, in which 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 35 

last is a large and very interesting totem 
carved out of the butt of a tree. I have 
heard it said that these poles are not found 
north of Sitka. This one is several hundred 
miles farther north. There is only the one, 




Native Women Trading 



and it may have been a trophy or a gift. I 
was unable to get any account of its past or 
any interpretation of its symbolic carvings. 
Before we landed we noticed the natives 
coming from every possible direction; some 
in their canoes, others walking, but all loaded 
down with their trinkets to sell to the pas- 
sengers on the steamer. When we landed on 
the dock the women were squatting on the 



36 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

floor, all in a row, displaying their goods. 
When a kodak was pointed at them they 
concealed their faces and demanded "two 
bits" as the price of a shot. There was 
among them a young mother with her babe 




Mother and Babe 



whom I was anxious to photograph, but her 
price was higher and I was required to raise 
the amount to "eight bits" before she would 
step out into the sun for a snapshot. I was 
afraid to take a time picture for fear she 
would "shy" before I got it. 

The old village, up the shore about a mile, 
was reached by a narrow walk along the 
coast line. The walk through the sparsely- 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 37 

growing spruce and cottonwood was delight- 
ful. Ravens flew about here and there, 
hoarsely calling as we passed by. The under- 
growth consisted principally of berry bushes — - 
salmon berries, blueberries, and red raspber- 




Playing in the Sand 



ries — and as we walked along we gathered 
handfuls of the luscious fruit from each in 
turn as our taste inclined. When we reached 
the village with its wide beach — for the tide 
was out — our attention was attracted toward 
a couple of the native belles, who were sitting 
tracing on the sand with their fingers images 
of fish, birds, and animals. We approached 
suddenly, cutting off their retreat. Being 



38 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

naturally shy and timid they ceased writing, 
and when they saw us point the camera 
toward them, turned their backs. I suggested 
to my friend that he walk around to the 
opposite side, take out his kodak as though to 




Native Boys out Gixnning 



photograph them, and when they turned 
around I would take a snap, which ruse 
worked admirably. 

Abandoning the party at this point, I took 
a stroll through the woods. There I happened 
upon half a dozen native boys shooting at a 
mark with guns. They were not aware of my 
presence until one of the boys standing apart 
from the others noticed what I was doing. 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 39 

Before he got away, however, I had his image 
on the film, I walked away a few steps and 
sat down on a log to put in a new film. When 
I lifted my head, to my surprise every last 
one of the little rascals had me covered with 




Sunset near St. Elias 



his gun. One emphatic sentence from me 
wilted their timid spirits and they skulked 
away. 

The attractive feature of Yakutat is a 
favorable view of Mt. St. Elias. When we 
were going up the bay the heavy clouds 
shrouded the mountain, obstructing our view, 
and how disappointed were the passengers 



40 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

as the boat steamed on toward the head of 
the bay, where the nearer peaks would shut 
off our view of St. Elias, even if other con- 
ditions had been favorable! But when we 
were leaving the harbor the same day the 
atmospheric conditions were just right to 
array the scene in all its splendor. The air 
was filled with low floating clouds fringed 
with the most brilliant colors from the setting 
sun, and as the clouds lifted, the purple 
foothills added splendor and enchantment 
to the slope that extended its snow-capped 
peak eighteen thousand feet into the blue 
concave of the heavens. Up to this time 
aboard our ship peace, happiness, and socia- 
bility reigned supreme, but when the open 
waters of the Pacific were reached and the 
"woollies," as the fierce blasts from the icy 
ranges are called by the sailors, struck us, 
tossing the spray over the pitching, rocking, 
and quivering steamer, sociability disappeared 
and peace and happiness left the faces of all 
the passengers, while the pallor of death 
overspread blooming countenances. There- 
upon the fishes became alert and the herring 
gulls, gracefully soaring in the wake of the 
steamer, uttered their hungry call of expecta- 
tion. Surely 'tis an ill wind that blows no 
good. 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 41 

The steamer belched forth the smoke from 
its stack as we moved slowly along the coast 
toward Katella harbor, the next port of entry. 
For fifty miles on the right of us could be seen 
the terminal edge of the famous Malaspina 




Cape St. Elias 

glacier, looking like the white crest of breakers 
crashing against a rocky coast. Ahead of 
us appeared Cape St. Elias, one of the 
most picturesque promontories of Alaska. Its 
divided point projected a long way into the 
ocean and the captain gave it a wide berth. 



On reaching Controller Bay the good ship 
anchored in the poor harbor. Presently a 



42 Huntin(>" in Southeastern Alaska 



boat, hailing from the revenue cutter Tahoma, 
pulled by eight sturdy seamen dressed in 
their clean, picturesque suits of blue and 
white, drew near the side of the steamer, and 
the officer in charge, tall and erect, a fine 
specimen of manhood, came up the rope 
ladder and made straight toward Secretary 
Fisher. In a short time one of the seamen 
was on the top deck gesticulating with hat 
and handkerchief to the cutter in the distance. 
On the cutter could be seen against the sky- 
line an ensign going through similar signs in 
answer to the instructions given. The Secre- 
tary and his party left the steamer very 
quietly without a cheer, and as he arrived on 
the cutter the booming of the cannon, repeated 
nineteen times, signaled the reception of the 
party. 

Controller Bay is not a natural harbor and 
the problem it presents is whether an engineer 
can construct at a reasonable cost an artificial 
harbor that will protect vessels from the 
terrific gales that sweep the coast during 
the winter months. Engineers differ on this 
matter; some say that the solution of the 
problem is a great dike constructed of concrete, 
and others think that a wall could not be 
built strong enough to withstand the powerful 
currents and massive ice floes of Controller 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 43 



Bay, and for this reason it is beHeved that the 
only terminal facilities for the Behring coal 
fields are at Cordova, by water some hundred 
miles farther north. 

At the present time a railroad is being built 
up the Copper River valley, which is the 
natural gateway to the great coal and copper 
deposits of the interior and the rich Tanana 
Valley. In constructing a railroad up this 
valley serious difficulties must be overcome. 
The question of labor is very important. 
Because of the continual rains and the short 
open season the highest wages must be paid. 
To get up the valley, it is necessary to cross 
the Copper River between two glaciers, and 
the topography of the country is such that 
it is a difficult engineering feat to construct 
a roadbed that will not be carried away by 
the spring freshets and the glaciers, which 
are continually changing. Miles and Childs 
glaciers vary in their movements, at times 
receding and again advancing, controlled by 
forces which are not fully understood. 

Leaving Katella we soon pass Cape Hinch- 
inbrook, where several steamers have been 
cast ashore and wrecked upon the rocky 
coast. Entering Prince William Sound we 
find the water smoother and a pleasant run 



44 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

is made to Cordova, the present terminus 
of the Copper River Railroad. Our next 
stop was Valdez, with its land-locked harbor. 
The town is built practically on the moraine 
of a glacier. Sometimes the channel of a 




Hinchinbrook Island 



glacier stream changes; in the year 191 1 such 
a change took place and carried away about 
half of the town. In order to prevent a 
similar accident in the future, the citizens 
turned out and constructed a levee of logs, 
rocks, and sand. Valdez glacier extends 
down from the summit a distance of twenty 
miles, the foot being about five miles from 




T3 
O 
O 



+-» 
cS 
N 

> 



46 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 



the town. During the winter of 1898 gold 
was first discovered near Center City in the 
interior. The excitement was great at Valdez, 
some seven thousand men gathering from all 
parts of the States to seek their fortunes. So 




Brixin in a Steel Trap 

great was the rush for the goldfields that one 
continuous procession of prospectors, carrying 
all kinds of outfits, passed northward over 
the glacier. The following year many per- 
ished on their way out. My guide carried 
the mail that year, and on one trip found 
seven men who had frozen to death, having 
been caught in a storm on the glacier. The 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 47 

whole party were very weak on account of 
scurvy and unable to reach Valdez. When 
found, two were lashed to sleds and one was 
sitting on a piece of ice, his head resting on 
his hands. On the same trip my guide came 
upon an old miner frozen to death, still hold- 
ing to the handle of his dog sleigh, while the 
dog lay curled up in a ball, still alive and still 
in the harness. 

After spending several days at Valdez, 
arrangements were made with the captain 
of the Hammond for a small boat to take us 
about fifty miles south into Gravenna Bay. 
Our little skiff was towed behind all day, and 
at five o'clock in the evening we were informed 
by the captain that he was afraid to go up 
the bay any farther for fear of striking a 
rock. Consequently our camping outfit had 
to be piled into our dory in a pouring rain, 
and after the captain gave two gongs, as the 
pilot shouted, "Great luck, boys!" the tug 
left us and disappeared around the cape in 
the distance. And here we were, fifty miles 
from human habitation, dependent for our 
return to civilization upon making connections 
with this same little tug at its next visit a 
month later. 

Prepared for the rain with rubber boots 
and oilcoats, we pulled towards the head of 



48 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

the bay, before the wind and on a flowing 
tide, so that our Httle craft fairly glided over 
the water. About twilight we pitched camp 
in a drenching rain. If there is one thing 
more than another which dampens the en- 
thusiasm for the wild, it is making camp with 
everything soaked. But by perseverance in 
due time we were getting our supper, snugly 
housed in our eight by ten tent, and happier 
than kings in a royal palace. To the music 
of the rain I soon fell asleep. 

In the morning consciousness was restored 
by the "quack, quack" of the ducks and the 
splash of the salmon running to their spawning 
ground, — the occasional wriggling splash of 
an old "humpback" who had run up the 
shore too far and was trying to get back into 
deeper water, the loud splash of the high 
jumper, and the faint swish of the thousands 
on their way to fresh water. After break- 
fast I donned my hunting outfit and strolled 
along the beach until I reached the mouth 
of a small creek which flowed into the bay. 
I was amazed at the number of humpback 
salmon {Oncorhynchus gorbuscha) ascending 
the stream to spawn, some green and fresh 
from the briny deep, others changed to a 
dark lead color by contact with the fresh 
water, and others, struggle- worn, almost with- 




■ »•' 







'\\ 






a. 






CO 

a 

a 
o 

S 



3^ 



50 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

out scales or skin to cover their bodies. They 
were running upstream by the thousands. 



There was a flock of red-breasted mergan- 
sers {Merganser serrator) on a pool nearby. 




Killing Fish with a Club 

I crept quietly to the brink, and, hat off, 
peeped over. After the shot was fired it 
was interesting to see the flock trying to dive ; 
the fish were so thickly massed that the ducks 
could not get below the surface of the water. 
This disturbance caused a rush of the fish and 
they madly churned the water in their efforts 
to get away from an imaginary enemy. In 
shallow riffles the fish were so crowded that 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 51 

it was almost impossible to wade across the 
stream without being thrown by tramping 
upon them or tripped by others trying to 
get away. Closer observation showed them 
in pairs, rooting their noses into the sand and 




Gulls Feeding on Salmon 

gravel to make a hole; in this the female de- 
posited the eggs and the male covered them 
with a milky substance, both turning sideways 
at the same time and both flapping their 
tails in covering the spawn. Frequently I 
could see two males or two females fighting 
each other, striking with their tails and biting 
like dogs, trying to get possession of a hole 



52 Huntintr in Southeastern Alaska 



^t> 



in the sand in which the spawn might be 
deposited. Looking at the horde all tattered 
and torn, I could not but admire their pluck 
and perseverance in ascending the stream 




A Good Fisherman 

over stones and other obstacles, with scarcely 
enough water to cover half their bodies, in 
order that the laws of nature might be obeyed 
and the species propagated. When the tide 
went out many were caught high and dry 
on the shore, and became a prey for birds and 
beasts. Thousands of gulls gathered daily, 
feeding on the dead fish, and almost invariably 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 53 

picking out the eyes first, these being the 
choicest morsels, according to their taste. 
I have frequently come across fish still alive, 
though robbed of their eyes. Our first meth- 
od of getting fish was to arm ourselves with 



mt/^mvii^frv^'iiftViMf^- 9c^^^.: — »: s7: : - xz. -^ rr f r F i ^fa r-. ;? ^ ' ? 




Dogs Fishing for Salmon 

clubs, walk into the shallow riffles, select 
some just fresh from the salt water and hit 
them with our clubs. We abandoned this 
method because several were killed before 
we got one that was fresh. We then tied a 
halibut hook on the end of a pole and, sitting 
on a rock, waited until a fresh fish appeared. 
As we caught sight of him some distance 



54 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 



away we would gradually move the hook into 
position and land him. 

It rained for several days and nights, 
causing the water in the creek to rise very 
high and run with considerable current. At 
this time the shore was salmon-colored with 
eggs uncovered by the swift water. All the 
fresh streams near camp were so polluted 
with dead fish that the water could not be 
used, and we were obliged to go above for 
some distance to get pure water. 

Before leaving Valdez we had taken a 
little walk out from town, and came across 
a small stream of pure ice-cold water that 
had its source in the snow of the mountain. 
Occasionally could be seen salmon returning 
to their spawning ground. I have no doubt 
that before Valdez was built the stream was 
famous for the annual hordes of fish that 
returned to spawn (and, as is believed by some, 
to die), but I was told that the number is 
getting less and less and now only a very few 
frequent the stream. While watching them 
our attention was drawn to a dog jumping 
into the water and others splashing about, 
dashing first in one direction and then an- 
other, trying to catch the fish. How amusing 
to see the fish dart between the legs of their 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 55 

would-be captors, out of the shallows and 
into deeper water! Occasionally the dogs 
would catch them and bring them to shore. 
Had we had the dogs with us at Gravenna 
Bay, what sport we might have had! 




Indian Hut 



While writing my notes one evening I 
smelled something burning, and on turning 
around saw our bed all ablaze, caught by a 
spark from the wood fire. If the fire had 
caught in our absence it would have been a 
very serious matter. Imagine our predica- 
ment to have been without food and shelter, 
many miles from civilization. 



56 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

On one of our side trips we happened upon 
an Indian and his family, living in a little hut 
constructed of logs and other materials. He 
could talk no English and we could not 
understand him. After exchanging several 




Indian Graves 

grunts and shaking hands we started to go, 
when we noticed his small boy coming to- 
wards us, holding out a paper in his hand. 
Opening it, we found the following written 
in a legible hand: "To all to whom these 
presents come: This is to notify all miners 
and trappers that there are bear traps set 
in these diggings." My guide was always 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 57 

more or less uneasy for fear of stepping into 
a steel trap set on a game trail along the stream. 
The vegetation along the banks of the 
creek was almost tropical in its density, and 
when the fish were spawning, bear frequented 




Indian Woman Repairing the Bidarka 

the place to catch their prey, which they 
carried to the bank and devoured. Often 
we could see the remains of fish left partly 
consumed, indicating that the bears had been 
disturbed at their meal. Doubtless they 
had heard the commotion of the fish trying 
to get away from us as we ascended the 
stream. 



58 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

One day while paddling our little boat 
along the water's edge, my guide called at- 
tention to an object in the distance which 
I was unable to make out for some time, but 
which the experienced eye of the hunter had 
observed a long way off, though he was unable 
to determine exactly what it was. Finally, as 
we approached nearer, he exclaimed, " Caught 
his own dog!" and sure enough, there was 
the Indian's dog caught in the steel trap 
set for bear. The poor fellow was whin- 
ing from pain, as though pleading with us 
to release him. I wanted the guide to take 
him out, but he said the dog might bite 
him and we had better notify the owner, for 
even if released the dog could never reach 
home in his present condition. While coming 
along he told the following story: 

"Several years ago there were two white 
men trapping on a little stream that emptied 
into the Copper River, and one of them was 
caught in a steel trap. The bones between 
the knee and the ankle were crushed where 
the huge iron jaws came together. After 
being in the trap for a long time, by almost 
superhuman efforts he succeeded in extricating 
his leg. Fortunately he was not far from 
his boat, and dragging himself over and under 
fallen trees he reached the dory, almost 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 59 

exhausted. Taking the oars he pulled several 
miles to reach his cabin. A day or two after- 
wards I happened along and found the man 
suffering great pain, and saw that unless the 
leg were taken off he would lose his life. We 
were a hundred miles from a doctor, and 
before aid could reach him he would have 
died. After talking the matter over with 
his partner, it was agreed that I was to cut 
the leg off in order to save his life, if possible. 
All the tools we had were a hunting knife 
and an old rusty saw which had hung in the 
cabin for several years. We boiled water 
to clean the tools as well as possible, inserted 
the end of the old saw in the fire to take off 
the rust, retempered the teeth in bear oil, 
got deer sinews ready to tie the arteries, and 
with these tools I cut the leg off. During 
the time I was at work the injured man 
frequently advised us what to do. He re- 
covered from the operation in due time and 
is now alive and well." My guide after- 
wards pointed the man out to me. 

In this location we spent about a week. We 
had no difficulty in killing all the teal {Nettium 
carolinensis) and Canada geese (Branta cana- 
densis) that we cared to eat, and, when the 
tide was down, in gathering all the clams 
desired. During the month that we spent 



6o Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

in this part of the country it rained continu- 
ally, night and day, with the exception of 
three days, which I spent in photographing. 
The sun would burst through the clouds like 
a huge searchlight, casting its rays upon 




Svinrise 

the tropical luxuriance of the underbrush, 
reflecting back a sparkling radiance from 
myriads of tiny raindrops. We changed our 
camp occasionally for new grounds, and one 
evening we had pitched our tent without 
pinning it down. It was raining, as usual, 
and after eating a scanty meal we threw our 
blankets on the ground and retired early. 
Some time in the night I heard the crackling 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 6i 

of the rank grass. My first impression was 
that there was a porcupine skulking near, but 
as we listened my guide said, "There 's a bear 
outside!" We had thrown down on the 
grass at the edge of the tent what was left of a 




Our Permanent Camp 

side of bacon, and Mr. Bruin was trying to 
get it from under the canvas. I immediately 
jumped up, grabbed my "405," and started 
towards the flap of the tent, but about 
the time I reached it there came two loud 
"woofs, " accompanied by the sound of crash- 
ing bushes, and that was the last we heard 
of Old Bruin. 



62 Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 

At the head of one of the fiords in the 
neighborhood, there was a glacier of con- 
siderable size, and on looking over the deso- 
lation I half expected to find a glacier bear 
{Ursus emmonsi). Comparatively little is 
known about the habits of this animal. The 
only one in captivity is in the public park at 
Seattle. It is a fine specimen, and as it 
walks up and down behind the bars its wild 
nature seems to predominate in every move- 
ment. In the adjoining cages are black and 
grizzly bears, but they seem, to be satisfied 
in captivity, while the glacier bear reminds 
one of a hyena as it paces from end to end, 
occasionally throwing its head into the air. 
The fur is a bluish black beneath, with outer 
grayish tips. 

In the early morning I started alone in the 
direction of the dead glacier, crossed the 
glacier stream easily to the opposite side, 
which looked more inviting of access, working 
my way up over the lateral moraine, searching 
among the crevasses, and now and again 
getting into a "pocket," from which I had 
to retrace my steps. Towards evening I 
turned homeward. When I reached the 
stream, I thought I had located the ford 
where I had previously crossed, but on making 
the attempt, I found the water too deep and 



Hunting in Southeastern Alaska 63 

swift. Many times I tried to cross at different 
points, thinking each time I had found the 
ford. I would wade out into the ice-cold 
stream until I felt the swift current almost 
lifting me off my feet, and then would 
make a hasty return. It was beginning to 
get dark and I was anxious to get home, so 
I lifted a large stone in my arm to give me 
additional weight and started toward a little 
eddy, cautiously feeling my way. When I 
reached the eddy I felt my feet sinking in 
the sand. My first thought was of a quick- 
sand, and I shall never forget the sensation 
as I hurriedly dropped the stone and made 
a mad rush for shore. However, I finally 
succeeded in reaching the other side safely. 
Before arriving at camp I heard the report of 
a gun from the direction of home, for the 
guide had grown uneasy and thought I was 
lost. 

A few more days' experience in the rain, 
among the glaciers, then we broke camp at 
high tide and drifted with the ebb flow out 
along the shore until we reached the outer- 
most projection of rocks, and there awaited 
the return of the tug which would take us 
back to Valdez. 



CHAPTER II 

OBSERVATIONS ON KODIAK ISLAND 

TN the following spring, about the middle 
^ of May, we purchased an outfit at Valdez 
for a trip westward along the Alaskan pen- 
insula. After being bottled up two days in 
the port of Valdez, we were anxious to get 
started. The steamer approached the nar- 
row entrance to the harbor, with Fort Liscom, 
a Government post, on the left, and on the 
right glaciers and wooded foothills. As we 
neared the neck it looked as though the 
stopper was in the bottle and our exit barred 
by an island; but an abrupt curve at the 
entrance took us into Prince William Sound, 
and in due time along Knight's Island and 
Latouche Island, where copper is found in 
paying quantities. And here is the most 
beautiful glacier of Alaska, the Columbia, 
with its palisades at times advancing into the 
forest and at times receding. A large flock 

of phalaropes {Phalaropus lohatus) darting 

64 



Observations on Kodiak Island 65 

back and forth over the surface of the water, 
formed geometric figures in the most graceful 
manner; occasionally the gray back most 
conspicuous and then the silvery underside 
shining, each little plume helping to make 




An Island near Valdez 



one perfect reflection in the water as they 
move in regular form, without any disar- 
ranging of the original positions, until they 
alight gracefully on the water. The greater 
scaup-duck {Aythya marila ?iearctica), with 
its white spots so noticeable as it takes its 
occasional upward flight from the water, 
is always interesting. However, it prefers 
diving out of sight for a place of safety as 



66 Observations on Kodiak Island 

the steamer approaches, coming to the sur- 
face from time to time until the boat is quite 
near, when, after a last long dive, it is off on 
the wing as fast as possible out of harm's 
way. 

In the distance to the westward as we 
entered Resurrection Bay, loomed up the 
majestic Cathedral Rock, towering skyward 
a thousand feet, with the Government survey 
cross on the top, and the roaring breakers 
washing its foot, filling the coast line with 
make-believe soap-suds. Near the water's 
edge the rocks were white with gulls mating 
for the nesting time. With the consent of 
the captain a shot was fired in that direction, 
which struck the water some distance from 
the rock, and myriads of gulls took to wing 
with their wild cry of alarm. Some person 
shouted, "There 's a whale!" and all were 
anxiously waiting for his reappearance, but 
his huge tail had disappeared to us for the last 
time. About this time a gull soared gracefully 
over the steamer and a fellow-passenger, 
rifle in hand, pointed the muzzle at the 
bird, and pulled the trigger, bringing down 
a feather from its wing. At the same time 
the first officer shouted, "Here, here! Don't 
shoot that gull! You '11 bring us bad luck." 
There is a well founded superstition among 



Observations on Kodiak Island 67 

the "old sea-dogs" that to kill a gull will 
bring bad luck. 

About dusk, as we steamed westward, our 
attention was called to Sea Lion Rocks, and 
the genial Captain Jansen steered the ship 




Sea Lion Rocks 



within five hundred yards of the island in 
order that we might see the lions. The 
rocks were covered with the large animals, 
and they made such an uproar as we passed 
that they could be heard a long distance off 
above the noise of the breakers. 

Along the coast of Kenai Peninsula the 
mountains are covered with spruce, hemlock, 
and birch, until we enter Resurrection Bay, 



68 Observations on Kodiak Island 

at the head of which Seward is built. The 
first time I visited Seward it was practically 
abandoned. It was the terminus of a new 
railroad in process of construction across the 
peninsula, having as its objective point the 




Seward 



placer mines of the Susitna Valley. Like 
a great many other projects of this kind, 
there was not sufficient money subscribed to 
finish the undertaking, and the company 
was forced into the hands of a receiver. 

The next stop on our way west was Sel- 
dovia. The old Russian church where we 
attended services was built on a little knoll 
that overlooked the harbor, and from it we 



70 Observations on Kodiak Island 

could see the native burial ground with its 
dilapidated grave marks. When we entered 
the church the natives did not seem to be 
much interested in us. While the sermon 
is being delivered the women occupy one 
side of the house and the men the other. 
During the services they paid close attention 
to what was going on. There were no seats 
in the church and all the parties stood during 
the entire time of worship. When the in- 
cense was being burned, filling the room with 
sweet fragrance, the expression on the features 
of the worshipers manifested a devout frame 
of mind and spirit not often in evidence. 

In the harbor were hundreds of gulls, 
floating leisurely on the surface of the water 
or standing on the logs that drifted with the 
tide. 

Among the passengers on the steamer was 
a delicate little lady with her three -year-old 
child, who was on the way to meet her hus- 
band at Iliamnia, some sixty miles across 
the bay. I remember how indignant the 
passengers were when they learned there 
was no person present to meet her when she 
arrived, and no prospect of her getting across 
Cook's Inlet for more than a week. A purse 
was raised among the passengers, all contribu- 
ting, and with the aid of the captain of 



Observations on Kodiak Island 71 



the revenue cutter, who in ordinary cases 
would take no passengers, the little lady 
was started on her trip across the Inlet the 
following morning, happy in the expectation 
of meeting her husband. 




Turbulent Shellicoff 

While crossing the entrance to Shellicoff 
Straits we encountered a very rough sea and 
the steamer tossed and pitched among the 
billows. That evening, as we steamed to- 
wards Kodiak Island, the clouds were fringed 
with pink and purple and through a rift the 
sun illuminated sky and water with all the 
splendor and brilliance of those northwestern 



']2 Observations on Kodiak Island 

sunsets. Passing to the left of Afognak 
Island, we entered the harbor at Kodiak. 
The village, with its Greek church similar 
in structure to the old chapel at Sitka, is 
built on a plateau and surrounded with slop- 




The Ravens 



ing, verdure-clad hills. The population con- 
sists of about four hundred, a few of them 
whites, the rest Aliutes and Creoles. The 
ravens (Corvus cor ax principalis) were very 
plentiful, and their croaking could be heard 
in all directions. One old fellow continually 
perched on the top of a shanty used as the 
district jail. Two of the prisoners were 
permitted to wander around, cut firewood 



Observations on Kodiak Island 73 

for the warden, plant seed and the like. Once 
when the planter was putting in seed at one 
end of the row and the raven picking it out 
at the other, we heard the former call out, 
"Shoo, shoo, you 11 be put in jail for stealing 
next." 

We arrived in Kodiak on the morning of 
May 26th, and immediately began our prep- 
arations for the hunt. On our way up we 
became acquainted with the United States 
Marshal, who kindly invited us to stop at 
his home until we could arrange matters to 
go farther westward on the island, where we 
expected to hunt. 

My guide was a man who had spent his 
early life on the plains as a cow-puncher and 
trapper. One day he told me that he and a 
friend left their mountain camp to sell their 
winter's catch. It was getting less and less 
each year because of the slow but sure dis- 
appearance of wild life, as the white hunters 
and trappers increased and the demand for 
furs grew. He was in love with a daughter 
of the plains and had returned in the spring 
with the results of his winter's work, intend- 
ing to lay his all at the feet of his lady love. 
The season had been against him in his 
search for furs. The heavy snows had kept 
the fox and lynx from making extensive 



74 Observations on Kodiak Island 

forages from their dens, and the low tempera- 
ture before the snow came froze the creeks 
so solid that the mink, otter, and beaver were 
forced to remain indoors the greater part of 
the time. The winter had been long and 
severe, the catch was poor, and he left his 
traps late in the spring when the pelts were 
beginning to look hairless. Thus he left 
his occupation in the solitude of the wilds 
with a heavy heart, for the previous fall 
when he bade adieu to his fair fiancee, full 
of hope and expectation, with the promise 
of a large yield, he was sure of sufficient 
funds to purchase a meager home. When 
he reached the frontier town he could not 
muster up courage enough to see her, but 
disposed of his stock, sold his outfit and all 
his belongings, and made a bee line for Cali- 
fornia; thence he took the first steamer for 
the Yukon. About this time a strike was 
made at Nome and hundreds of gold seekers 
had gathered. There was a great demand 
for fresh meat, so he conceived the idea of 
constructing a raft in the upper waters, 
loading it with moose meat, and then floating 
the flat to Nome and getting rich quick. 
About the time he was ready to start with 
a full load. Congress passed an act making 
it unlawful to sell or have in possession any 



Observations on Kodiak Island 75 

wild game. On his way down he was stopped 
at the Government fort, put under arrest, 
and his load confiscated. He argued his 
own case well, for he got off without im- 
prisonment. After spending several years 
there he returned to Seattle, and sent for his 
little girl from Montana; they were united 
for better or worse, and together they left 
Seattle and landed on the Alaskan Peninsula, 
where they spent three years hunting and 
trapping. 

I visited their clean, tidy home in Seattle, 
was very much delighted, and spent many 
pleasant hours listening to the wife's stories 
of her experiences. Among other things 
she said: "My husband shot during the 
three years over one hundred of the big 
brown bear for the hides. My part was to 
assist him with the skinning and do the 
general housework. On one occasion he had 
shot a big bear and had placed his gun a short 
distance away while he proceeded to skin 
the animal. About the time the steel entered 
the skin the bear jumped up, uttered a hair- 
raising growl, and as I ran away, Grant 
grabbed his gun and finished the bear. I 
tell you that was exciting. For a whole year 
we did not see a soul at camp, and when we 
wanted provisions. Grant would make a trip 



76 Observations on Kodiak Island 

across Akuton Pass to Unalaska to do the 
buying. One day he left me in the morning 
with a large Malamuth dog for my sole com- 
panion, saying he would return on the morrow. 
When the morrow dawned it brought with it 
one of the worst storms that had swept the 
coast for years, so bad that even one of the 
large steamers could not live it out, and was 
destroyed on the rocks nearby. The storm 
kept up for four days, and just imagine me 
alone during those four long, weary days, 
wondering if Grant had been lost, and what 
I would do if such were the case. 

''The dawning of the fifth day found me 
looking in the direction of Unalaska, hoping 
and praying that he might return safely. A 
little black speck in the blue distance caught 
my eye. At first I thought it was a bird 
skimming over the water, but as I looked 
again and again it seemed to float on the 
surface. My spirits rose, and the longer I 
looked the more certain I was that it was the 
little boat. Oh! what was my joy as the tiny 
object increased in size as it advanced nearer 
and nearer until I recognized the little dory 
and the frantic waving of hat and hands of 
Grant as he approached closer and closer! 
The climax came when I recognized his whoop, 
as he saw me standing on the beach with 



Observations on Kodiak Island ^'j 

arms open to receive him, and woman-like, 
I proceeded to swoon away. 

"The very next trip I determined to go 
with him. We set sail in our little schooner 
with a strong fair wind, but before long a 
fierce gale struck us and was carrying us 
toward sure destruction on the reef, where 
the angry sea would have made kindling 
wood of our frail craft. We cast the anchor, 
but it dragged, dragged, and would not take 
hold, and all the while we were drifting nearer 
and nearer the reef. Grant had given up 
all hope, and said: 'MoUie, dear, it 's all up! 
We 're lost!' I encouraged him, saying that 
there was still hope, when, much to our relief, 
the anchor took hold and the bow turned 
to windward on the very verge of destruction. 
It held fast all night. As the dawn began to 
appear the wind shifted, and hoisting our 
little sail we tacked back and forth to Una- 
laska. We started on our return trip, but 
luck was against us; we were blown far out 
to sea, and for four long days and nights we 
drifted, we knew not where. Almost the 
entire time Grant had his head up through 
the hatchway, around his neck a canvas 
spread over the hatchway, to keep the break- 
ers from filling the boat, and many, many 
times I cheered him with a cup of strong tea. 



78 Observations on Kodiak Island 

Grant had given up all hope of reaching land, 
when gradually the wind shifted, blew from 
the opposite direction, and took us straight 
to shore." 

On one of their hunting trips to Knight's 
Island, Grant prospected a little on the side 
and staked a copper claim which "panned 
out" very well, but which eventually cost 
the life of a partner, who was caught in a snow 
slide the following spring. 

I bade her good-bye as we left Seattle, when 
she said : ' ' Oh ! how I long to return to Alaska ! 
Before I went there I was a very delicate 
girl and had very poor health; in fact, the 
opinion of the family physician was that I 
did not have long to live; but roughing it in 
the open air seemed to be a tonic and built 
me right up. Is it any wonder I love Alaska 
and long for its wild free life?" 

Kodiak is a charming little village. The 
natives are lazy and spend most of their time 
in fishing and hunting. We hired a couple 
of Aliutes, who owned a schooner, to take 
our equipment to the camping ground. Our 
course lay around the northeastern end of 
Kodiak Island, thence westward. After 
starting, we were becalmed for some time to 
leeward of the rocky coast. Along came a 



Observations on Kodiak Island 79 



couple of natives, who towed us out a few 
hundred feet from behind the island, and 
presently the sails began to fill. As though 
it were human, the schooner responded to 
the gentle breezes and away we went toward 



~ 


■■ 


i 








■WOPPii! 




^^t^^""!"^^'^ 



Kodiak 

the Open seas. We had to round a distant 
point in order to get into another bay. With 
a fair southeast wind we dropped anchor at 
six o'clock some thirty miles west of Kodiak. 
We followed the shore line with its picturesque 
scenery of snow-clad hills covered with scrubby 
trees, mostly cottonwood and spruce. Here 
and there the tundra, like a great meadow 



8o Observations on Kodiak Island 

fringed with alder, added charm and interest 
to the surroundings. The waters of ShelHcoff 
Straits threw their breakers far up on the 
beach, and an occasional whale would spout in 
the distance. We passed an island covered 




Gull Island 

with different species of gulls nesting on the 
rocks; it was just the beginning of the nesting 
season for aquatic birds. 

After several days of these interesting 
sights, the sailboat entered a beautiful little 
fiord, where we cast anchor for the night. On 
the following day we landed our equipment 
dismissed the Indians with their boat, and 



Observations on Kodiak Island 8i 



pitched our tent in a little sheltered nook 
among the cotton woods, where we expected 
to spend several weeks in hunting and photo- 
graphing the great Kadiak bear ( Ursus midden- 
dorff). The snow had disappeared for about 




Forget-me-nots 

a third of the way up the mountain, visible 
beyond foothills densely overgrown with alder, 
elder, and other bushes. The rocky shore, 
treeless, save for a stunted cottonwood here 
and there, was covered with many varieties 
of beautiful spring flowers. A cluster of 
fragrant forget-me-nots among the mosses, 
another of crowfoot, with the long dry grass 
of the previous year for a background, and a 



82 Observations on Kodiak Island 

bunch of pinks with a similar setting added 
life and color to the rugged surroundings. 

While climbing for a specially beautiful 
bunch of forget-me-nots I came across a crow's 




Crow's Nest and Young 

nest {Corvus americanus) under a ledge of 
rocks. In the nest were several young crows 
waiting for the mother bird to return to 
appease their hunger. The bald eagles {Hali- 
cBtus leucocephalus) were very plentiful and 
there were several nests built in the vicinity. 
Never having had any experience with eagles 
rearing their young, I suggested to my guide 



Observations on Kodiak Island 83 

that I would climb one of the trees to the 
nest and see what effect it would have upon 
the birds. He insisted that it was dangerous 
to climb the tree, but could not persuade me 
to forego the experience. At my request 




Nests of Eagle and Magpie 

he stood guard near the foot of the cotton- 
wood, with instructions to shoot the birds if 
they came too close. Taking off my shoes, 
coat, and hat, I started to climb the tree as 
the old birds were soaring quite a distance 
above. As I climbed higher and higher the 
birds came nearer and nearer, and when I 
was about half way up the guide tried to 



84 Observations on Kodiak Island 

persuade me to come down, for the birds 
were getting dangerously close. When I had 
covered about two-thirds of the climb, one 
of the birds came so near that I could feel 
the wind from his wing, when "crack" went 
the gun and down went the bird. I remon- 
strated with him for shooting the bird, for it 
was not close enough to do any harm. He 
again insisted that I come down, saying that 
the other bird would strike me and knock 
me off the tree, but I still persisted in going 
higher, with the male coming nearer and 
nearer. On one of its circlings it struck me 
lightly on the head with the tip of its wing. 
The guide said, "Is that close enough?" and 
threw his gun up as though to shoot the bird, 
but I insisted that he should wait a little. 
All the time my eyes were fixed on the eagle. 
As he made the next swoop, if I had not 
dodged behind a limb he would surely have 
knocked me off with his wing. Again the 
gun cracked, the bird pitched head-on and, 
meteor-like, dropped to the ground with a 
thud. 

Climbing up to the nest, I found it was 
built of sticks. Some on the margin of the 
nest were as large as one's wrist, those nearer 
the center were smaller, while the nest proper 
was lined with grass. The nest over all had 



Observations on Kodiak Island 85 

a diameter of about six feet. In it were 
three little eaglets, possibly two days old, 
and around the nest were the remains of 
several species of birds, such as ducks, 
ptarmigan, and kingfishers, also pieces of 




Eagle Watching for Prey 

fish, to feed the young. When I saw the 
destruction of life I felt, in common with the 
guide, that eagles should not receive too much 
consideration at the hands of the Nimrod. 
He was anxious to shoot every eagle in sight, 
as he said many a nice piece of fur caught 
in his traps had been destroyed by them. 
Knowing that both the parent birds were 



86 Observations on Kodiak Island 



dead, I thought it a pity to leave the young to 
die of starvation. Pulling my bandanna hand- 
kerchief out of my pocket, I carefully stowed 
away the little birds in the pack, swung it over 
my arm, and slid down to the ground. 




y vip 




Eagle's Nest and Young 

On the lower branches of the same tree a 
pair of magpies {Pica pica hudsoftica) had 
built their nest in the usual way, covered 
over to the depth of at least a foot with limbs 
and sticks, its small entrance at the side, 
evidently in pursuance of the natural instinct 
of the birds for the protection of their nest 
and young. It occurred to me as strange that 



Observations on Kodiak Island 87 

both of these birds, carnivorous and well 
known as destroyers of eggs and nests, seemed 
to live happily together, though the eagle, 
if it so desired, could have destroyed the nest 
of the magpie with one grip of its powerful 
talons. 

We took the young eagles to camp, fed 
them for several days, and the amount they 
could devour of fresh codfish, cut up in large 
chunks, was surprising. They would fill 
their craws so full that they looked like 
pouter pigeons. 

For several days we observed with the field- 
glass that a bald eagle had built its nest away 
up among the crags at the end of a projection 
on one of the peaks. We noticed that the 
old bird spent a great deal of time on the 
nest, and we knew she was hatching. After 
discussing the matter, we decided to take the 
young eagles and put them in the nest to be 
reared by the foster-mother. About dawn 
we started for the eyrie on the cliffs, with our 
kodak, gun, and the young eaglets. After 
climbing three or four hours we reached a 
point above the rocks, and then by advancing 
cautiously, sliding and crawling, we safely 
reached the nest. I had given the guide 
positive instructions that he was under no 
circumstances to kill the old birds, but scare 



88 Observations on Kodiak Island 

them away by shooting into the air occasion- 
ally. He took a position a little above where 
he could command a good view of the birds 
and keep guard over me while I was photo- 
graphing the nest. There were two pale buff 




First Sight of Day 



eggs (size 2.75 x 2.10) in the nest, and while 
I was arranging my camera an occasional 
report from the gun in the hands of the guide 
kept the eagles at a respectful distance. 
While setting up the kodak I heard the "peep, 
peep" of the little eaglets in the eggs trying 
to get the first sight of day, and about the 
time everything was ready to take the picture 



Observations on Kodiak Island 89 

the egg cracked, with the result that I ob- 
tained a picture of the little bird just coming 
out. We left our two little eagles with the 
others, worked our way down the mountain- 
side, and since then I have often wondered 
if the foster-mother reared the young. 

We decided to change our camping-ground 
into the adjoining fiord. Taking the twenty- 
foot tide at flood, as we thought, we were a 
little slow in starting, had some difficulty 
getting out, and before we reached deep 
water were caught and left high and dry on 
a shoal, where we were obliged to remain for 
several hours, waiting for the return of the 
tide. During the interim we waded to shore 
and scoured the neighboring hills in search 
of some evidence of Bruin. We found none, 
and by the time we came back to the water's 
edge, the tide had set in so far that we were 
forced to wade for a quarter of a mile to our 
boat. The latter was heavily loaded, but as 
the current caught it, it moved gently at first, 
then at last cleared the sandbar. With a 
strong wind blowing, we were carried out to 
the promontory just about the time the tide 
was turning and the flood tide carried us up 
to the head of the adjoining bay. The 
breakers were running high on the point and 
it was with the greatest difficulty that we 



90 Observations on Kodiak Island 

were able to get around with our dory. 
Frequently the wind blew the spray all over 
us, and by the time we reached the return 
tide on the other side I was greatly exhausted 




Sea Parrot Incubating 



and gave a sigh of relief, for conditions were 
such that we were afraid our little dory could 
not stand much more of the kind of sea that 
was running. Once around on the other 
side the wind changed, and with the inflow 
of the tide and our little leg-of-mutton sail, 
we were carried with race-horse speed to the 



Observations on Kodiak Island 91 

head of the bay. We steered for a small 
island, and as we approached, many gulls, 
sea-parrots, and ducks were flying around 
the bay. We landed the dory on the beach, 
and climbed the rocks while the birds hovered 




Sea Parrot's Nest and Egg 

about US by the thousands, uttering their 
shrill cries of alarm as we gathered a few 
fresh eggs for breakfast on the morrow. 
Sea-parrots {Fratercula arctica) were quite 
numerous, and many left their holes in the 
rocks, startled no doubt by the warning given 
by the gulls. Peeping down into one of 
the crevices I discovered a sea-parrot's nest 



92 Observations on Kodiak Island 

with the female sitting on it. In order to 
get in to the nest it was necessary to pass 
horizontally between the rocks and drop 
vertically about five feet into a small, cavern- 
like space. Being anxious to photograph 
the nest, I discarded a part of my clothing, 
entered the hole feet first, with the guide 
holding on to me until my feet reached solid 
ground. Having a pair of buckskin gloves 
on my hands I caught the parrot, and at the 
same time the parrot caught me with its 
powerful beak, and if it had not been for the 
gloves I would have received an ugly bite. 
I handed the bird and her one dull-white 
and -lilac -marked egg to the guide, who 
placed the bird in my kodak box until he 
helped me out. I had considerable difficulty 
in getting out at the hole by which I had 
entered, for to do so it was necessary for 
my body as it emerged to be at right 
angles with the wall rock. When I did suc- 
ceed in getting out, with the aid of my guide 
pulling and tugging, I was minus considerable 
clothing. 

A little farther down the rocks we came 
to a white tern's nest (Gygis alba kiUlitzi), 
viz, an egg laid upon the bare rock without 
a vestige of any structure. In color it was 



Observations on Kodiak Island 93 

bluish white, with large liver-colored spots. 
It is said of these birds that they are very 
reckless in laying their eggs, at times selecting 
a bare limb, and how they succeed in incu- 
bating under certain conditions is remarkable. 




Characteristic Nest of Gygis 

We passed about two weeks in this location 
in the most ideal weather, without pitching 
tent, sleeping on the ground rolled in our 
blankets, our canopy the heavens glittering 
with myriads of stars overhead. The days 
were long and we spent most of our time 
from two o'clock in the morning until eleven 



94 Observations on Kodiak Island 

at night where the bear love to roam. They 
were just coming out of hibernation and had 
not yet started to feed. During my brief 
experience I observed from the tracks in the 
snow that the bear do not eat anything for 




Nest and Eggs of Herring Gull 

the first two or three days, then gradually 
descend toward the snow-line and begin to 
nip the new grass. While the salmon run 
their principal diet is fish. With the glasses 
we could see several trails of Old Ephraim 
where he came over the very highest peaks 
of the snow-capped range, quartering down 
and again returning to the higher altitudes, 
where he evidently spent his time at this 



Observations on Kodiak Island 95 

season of the year. On one occasion we 
pitched camp about dusk, ten o'clock, and 
having gathered a good supply of last year's 
ferns for bedding, rolled ourselves up in our 
blankets and forgot we were tired until five 
o'clock the next morning. 

A good hot breakfast limbered up our 
stiff joints considerably, and in about an hour 
we were starting for the trails in the snow of 
the summit. Up we went, steadily and 
slowly, at an angle of forty-five degrees until 
we reached the snow-Hne, when we struck 
the bear trail where he first had descended 
the mountain. A part of the time he had 
come down on his tail, judging from the 
slides we found occasionally. He had circled 
around quite a distance and ascended again 
without even nipping a blade of grass, al- 
though in the snow-slides the grass was 
beginning to grow. Taking the trail we 
started after him up the mountain, but a 
more difficult task one could not well imagine. 
Part of the time the wet snow was up to our 
waists and all the time over boot-tops. Up 
and up we went on the trail until we reached 
the drift snow of the side summit, where we 
were obliged to crawl on hands and knees 
in order to get over. Then our task was 
easy for some time and we found many old 



96 Observations on Kodiak Island 

trails on the top. We were satisfied that the 
bears were not yet feeding. 

Returning along the mountains we saw 
quite a few small snow-slides. On one 
occasion while crossing between two ridges 
my companion startled me by shouting, 
"Run, for Heaven's sake!" At the same 
time he made a dash towards the ridge. 
My first thought was, ''A bear!" But almost 
instantly I realized our danger, as a snow- 
slide that had started above from some un- 
known cause, came thundering down, almost 
upon us. (It is said that under certain con- 
ditions the report of a gun may start a slide.) 
As it descended, gathering speed and bulk 
and as the loose snow slid over the hard crust, 
it sounded like a strong wind roaring through 
the trees. In speaking about his long ex- 
perience in Alaska, my guide informed me 
that he was more afraid of a snow-slide than 
of all the grizzlies in the country. He said 
that in the spring of '98, in what was known 
as the Sheep Creek slide on the Chillcoot 
Pass, he helped to dig out of the snow fifty- 
two dead bodies of gold-seekers who were 
caught on the trail in a big snow-slide, among 
them being one woman. 

The next morning, just as soon as the 




o 

O 

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u 

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O 

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98 Observations on Kodiak Island 

regular routine of getting breakfast was over, 
we again started up the mountains in search 
of the quarry. The hunting was the hardest 
I have ever experienced, the mountains being 
a series of peaks and hollows, at the base 
covered with a dense growth of alder and 
underbrush, the rocks and crevices hidden 
beneath moss, dry ferns, and leaves. As we 
ascended we found less moss and alder and 
more long grass. The snow had packed the 
latter flat on the earth and it was as slippery 
as ice. At each step we were siu-e to slide 
if the greatest effort and care were not taken. 
When we reached the snowy top, as far as 
the eye could see, peak after peak pushed its 
head above the clouds, looking like huge 
sentries, standing guard over an untrodden 
domain. We scrutinized every suspicious- 
looking object with the field-glasses in the hope 
of descrying a bear. Working our way down 
over the snow, occasionally sliding "hunker" 
fashion or dropping into a hole between the 
rocks, greeting with a quiet "damn" an alder 
switch in the eye or a devil's club j agger in 
the hand, we finally reached the valley. 

Along the shore of the stream I observed 
the beaten paths that the bear had worn to a 
depth of twenty inches at places, evidently 
where they had been travelling up and down 



Observations on Kodiak Island 99 

the stream fishing for many years. Each 
morning as soon as we opened our eyes we 
reached for the field-glasses and carefully 
scanned the mountain-sides for fresh signs. 
One morning the guide, after looking long and 
carefully, called my attention to three bears 
circling up the mountain. We watched them 
climb higher and higher until they finally 
disappeared over the backbone of the ridge 
just about the time we were ready to follow. 
The foothills were covered at least a third 
of the way with dense alder and other tangled 
underbrush that made it very difficult to get 
through. By the time we reached the snow- 
line we were tired out and stopped a short 
time for a rest. Occasionally a ptarmigan 
would start up, uttering its plaintive, croaking 
notes as it took to wing. Some were all 
white in their winter coats, others were 
partly in their brown summer plumage. 
Again we plowed our way up through the soft 
snow, sinking deeper and deeper as we as- 
cended the mountain, a hot sun adding to 
our discomfort. The guide was in advance 
and I followed, stepping in his tracks. Even 
with our snow glasses it was almost impossible 
to see. The glitter of the snow affected the 
eyes, though the eyelids, heavy and red, 
were almost closed and the tears trickled 



loo Observations on Kodiak Island 

down our cheeks. Half the time I could not 
see at all. Sometimes the guide would go 
into the snow up to his knees and again to 
his waist into a crevice, which could then 
be avoided by his follower. Plodding along 
we reached almost the top of the snowy peak, 
now enveloped in a canopy of fog, and there 
we were in the midst of a snowstorm that was 
so dense we could scarcely see, and all that I 
could distinguish was a black object about 
three feet in advance. Finally the guide called 
out that it was foolishness for us to track the 
bear under present conditions, and suggested 
that we circle around the peak and catch 
their trail on the other side. In a short time 
we were out of the snow storm and, tramping 
around the cone of the mountain, struck the 
trail, which went straight down the other 
side toward the valley. Occasionally one 
of the bear would take a notion to sit down 
and slide many yards. This habit rubs the 
hair off rapidly, and if they are not killed 
shortly after they leave winter quarters the 
hide is practically ruined. When we got down 
below the snow-line the bear took to the 
alder, where we found it was much more 
difficult to follow the trail. About noon we 
took off our shoes, wrung out our socks, now 
soaking wet with snow water, and hung 



Observations on Kodiak Island loi 

them up to dry while we slept for about 
three hours on the bare ground. Then we 
took the trail again across the opposite 
mountain, but finally had to give up, for we 
were unable to overtake the game. 




An Extinct Crater where the Bear Hibernate 



Two days afterwards we started up the 
valley, when the guide happened to look 
back and pointed out a large bear ascending 
the mountain about half a mile behind us. 
Through the field-glasses we watched him 
climbing; frequently he would look back, — ■ 
evidently he had gotten a whiff of us as we 
passed him in the valley below. Occasionally 
he would disappear behind a little knoll and 



102 Observations on Kodiak Island 

again appear, at the same time gradually 
ascending the mountain. Finally he went 
out of sight behind a knoll and we waited 
for about twenty minutes to see if he would 
show himself again before we started after 
him. We concluded that he had lain down 
on the knoll, and after fixing the location as 
best we could, we started to climb the moun- 
tain, first through the thick alder until we 
reached the snow-line, then plowing our 
way through the snow, using the guns for 
alpenstocks, as the climbing was very diffi- 
cult. When we reached the knoll where 
the bear was concealed we advanced cau- 
tiously, puffing like " wind-jammers" — full 
of excitement at the thought of the quarry 
being so near. 

The guide was just pointing out to me the 
back track in the snow beyond, when old 
Bruin raised up on his hind quarters, opened 
his mouth, and let out two of the most awful 
growls one could imagine. At the same time 
the guide exclaimed, ''Get to him, there he 
is!" — only his language was a little more 
forcible. With that the bear dropped on 
all fours, head advanced as though he was 
going to charge. Before I had time to take 
a shot he wheeled, disappeared for a second 
in a little depression beyond, reappeared on 



Observations on Kodiak Island 103 

the other side at a distance of about forty- 
yards, going down the mountain at a rapid 
gait. I fired my first shot from a "405," 
but there was no indication that I had touched 
the mark. I pumped in another shell and 





-y' - 

Where He Fell 




fired again, with no better results; again I 
threw the gun to my shoulder, pulled the 
trigger, but there was no explosion. I must 
have been a little excited, for I did not push 
the lever far enough, consequently it did not 
throw the shell into the chamber. My guide 
by this time was very much excited and 
insisted upon taking a shot, while I demanded 



104 Observations on Kodiak Island 

one more chance. All this time the bear 
was going down the mountain -side at a rapid 
pace. By the time he was a hundred yards 
away I fired the last shot and he made one 
headlong plunge into the snow. 

Much to my surprise, although I had fre- 
quently heard of the remarkable vitality 
of the grizzly, we found upon examination 
that the first shot had passed through the 
heart and through the entire body, as indi- 
cated by the hole on the other side. The 
second time I fired I overshot and the last 
charge quartered through the lungs and came 
out at the left shoulder. Thus he had run 
at least fifty yards after receiving his death 
wound, and I have no doubt would have run 
a long way if it had not been for the last shot 
that brought him down. We left the bear 
where he fell in order to get a photograph, 
and it was necessary to make a special trip 
back with the kodak, which we did the follow- 
ing day. 

Working our way down the mountain trail 
to the valley we ate our lunch, and took a 
nap. On awakening we advanced toward the 
head of a beautiful little lake artistically lo- 
cated in a basin of half snow-clad hills. The 
silence, save for the crackling cry of the ptar- 
migan {Lagopus lagopus) as they left their 



Observations on Kodiak Island 105 

snowy bed in great alarm, was awe-inspiring. 
A little beyond the head of the lake we were 
confronted with a mountain stream which 
to me looked impassable owing to the swiftness 




Stretched Bear Skins 



of the current. In a few seconds the guide 
stepped into the ice-cold water, at the same 
time commanding me to get on his back, 
and in this way he ferried me across with the 
water almost carrying him off his feet. Later 
in the afternoon our progress was again 
checked by a torrent, the sight of which 
caused me to say, "It's impossible for us 



io6 Observations on Kodiak Island 

to cross this stream, we '11 have to go back 
the way we came." My companion followed 
the stream up and down a short way until 
finally he came to a cottonwood tree about 
two feet in diameter. Taking his coat off 
and reaching for the small axe in his belt, 
in a short time he felled the tree right across 
the creek, and by this footbridge we passed 
over without any difficulty. About ten 
o'clock in the evening, as we worked our way 
down the precipitous chasm, we came upon 
an obstacle that we could not overcome. 
The gorge was perhaps ten feet wide and we 
were working our way along on the left of 
the stream. As we rounded a curve we 
found that just ahead the course of the 
torrent was deflected by a boulder on the 
right, so that it rushed to the left and point 
blank against a projecting rock directly in 
our path, effectually cutting off our progress. 
It was quite an undertaking to get out of the 
pocket we were in, and it required the alter- 
nate assistance of each to accomplish the 
undertaking. With occasionally a boost and 
then a pull, and so on, we finally climbed 
pretty well up to the top, where we could 
start anew down to the shore a little beyond 
the canyon. By this time the shadows cast 
by the midnight sun were lengthening fast. 



Observations on Kodiak Island 107 

We began to realize our position, tired and 
hungry, without food, waiting around the 
camp fire for six hours for the ebb tide that 
we might get over to our boat. The guide 
could not content himself very long and 
started to work his way around a rock pro- 
jection. In the undertaking he fell into the 
water, and instead of trying to get out, made 
a bold dash across the stream and pulled 
himself up on the rocks on the opposite side 
like a half -drowned rat. In a short time he 
returned with the boat and ferried your 
humble servant across. By this time it was 
getting quite cold and he was threatened 
with chills, so to keep up the circulation he 
applied the oars furiously to reach our tent, 
which fortunately was not far away. Hur- 
riedly changing his clothing and wrapping 
himself up in blankets, he brought on the 
reaction about the time I had a pot of strong 
hot tea ready to administer. 

On our wanderings around the island we 
frequently came upon an abandoned winter 
home of the natives. They fish and trap 
principally, for a livelihood. Early in the 
fall they take their families into some remote 
nook, build a harabara out of logs, thatch 
the entire outside surface with native red- 
top hay to keep out the cold, and pile large 



io8 Observations on Kodiak Island 

logs all over the hay to keep it from blowing 
away. They dry salmon, cod, and flounders 
for their winter supply. When the fiu* be- 
comes prime they set their traps for fox, 




Indian Barabara 



ermine, and land otter, and in this way eke 
out a miserable existence. It is said of them 
that in their early days they were honest to a 
fault, theft being punished by death, but on 
associating with the whites they acquired all 
the faults of the latter with none of the good. 
The dawn of another day brought a hazy 
sky and the indications foretold wet weather. 



Observations on Kodiak Island 109 

True to our expectations it rained the greater 
portion of the day. In the afternoon it 
cleared up somewhat and towards evening 
the sun came out bright. We then visited 
Gull Island to get a few fresh eggs for break- 




Kodiak Island Pinks 



fast. The Arctic tern {Sterna paradiscBo) 
had a large community on the rocky island. 
When we approached they hovered over us 
in great numbers. The kittiwakes {Rissa 
tridactyla) also had a colony. In many 
nests on the island, the eggs were blotched 
and streaked in various shades. They were 
about the size of an ordinary hen egg, were 
palatable, and we used quite a number to 



no Observations on Kodiak Island 

make pancakes. After photographing several 
nests with eggs and a few wild flowers that 
grew very abundantly on the rocks near the 
water's edge, we returned to camp, had 
supper, consisting of eggs, bear steak, etc., 
after which we retired for the night about 
ten o'clock, it being still almost daylight, 
for during June the days are twenty-two 
hours long. 

We again desired to change our camp into 
the adjoining bay, so we pulled stakes and 
started for a fifteen-mile trip. The tide was 
in our favor, but with a head wind we pulled 
our little dory down to the turning point, 
where tide and wind helped us on our way. 

When we were about halfway up we came 
upon a camp of Italian fishermen who had 
just arrived from "Frisco" to fish for salmon 
during the season's run. We turned our 
boat towards shore and landed to meet our 
neighbors. They were a villainous-looking 
lot, about two dozen in all, and could speak 
no English, except the foreman, and we could 
understand him only with difficulty. We 
succeeded in letting him know we were anxious 
to have a few fish for supper, and soon several 
of the men were making a haul with the 
seine for our special benefit, so we had all 
the fish we wanted. After exchanging com- 



Observations on Kodiak Island iii 

pliments, our little sail was hoisted, and as 
the boat sped over the water we waved a 
good-bye to the ''bunch," although we under- 
stood they wanted us to spend the night 
with them. Before we had gone very far 
the wind died down to a gentle breeze, and 
much to our disappointment we had to take 
down our sail, for it flapped around like a 
wounded bird, here, there, and everywhere, 
without wind enough to make it taut. We 
took the oars about seven o'clock and before 
long the water became so calm that the 
snow-capped mountains reflected their peaks 
on the waters of the bay, seeming to use the 
smooth surface for a mirror, as they stood 
majestic in their garments of white. We rode 
along in silence, hour after hour, past the 
huge mountains of granite, slate, and sand- 
stone, with here and there a stringer of 
quartz. I could not but wonder what a 
force must have been at work to have caused 
such an upheaval. Beautiful clusters of pink, 
yellow, and purple flowers were clinging to 
the perpendicular face of the rocks, and re- 
lieved much of the severity of outline. As 
we advanced toward the head of the bay, 
the eagles, in their solitude perching here and 
there on the topmost pinnacles, eyed us with 
suspicion. Now and again one would leave 



112 Observations on Kodiak Island 

the cliff, soar round and round overhead 
until we passed out of sight, doubtless wonder- 
ing what strange creatures these were. We 
arrived at the head of the bay about midnight 
in this land of twilight, and soon had a good 
wood fire alongside a big cottonwood tree, 
where with "spuds" and flounders, hard 
tack and a tin of hot "Old English Breakfast, " 
we were quite contented. After a corncob 
pipe and a short story or two, we threw our 
blankets on the beach and were quickly in 
the Land of Nod. 

The next morning we were up about the 
time the sun was casting his rays over the 
eastern snow-capped peaks. What a picture 
for an artist ! If painted true to nature almost 
any person would say, "Overdrawn, over- 
drawn!" yet with the deep blue sky for a 
background, the white mountains in bold 
relief, pushing their tops into the blue, and 
the green foothills and the placid waters of 
the bay in the foreground, how could the 
scene be overdrawn? In that dawn of morn- 
ing the flight of ducks to and from the feeding 
grounds was numerous, the most conspicuous 
of them all being the harlequin duck {Histri- 
onicus histrionicus) because of the prominent 
black and white stripes. It builds its nest 
along the mountain stream which dashes and 



Observations on Kodiak Island 113 

tosses down the gorge, and when the young 
are hatched leads them to the sea. 

Just as soon as we got a bite to eat, with our 
rifles and field-glasses we started for our daily 
hunt. On our way up the mountain a little 
brown body streaked with black fluttered 
out from beneath a tuft of grass underneath 
the pussy willows. Stooping and separating 
the dry grass, we exposed the four whitish 
eggs of the white- crowned sparrow (Zonotri- 
chia leucophrys). In about an hour we saw 
a large bear traveling at a rapid gait — -at 
times running — along the mountain just at 
the snow-line. We sat down and watched 
him through the glasses, hoping he would 
soon find a place to his liking to take a little 
snooze. After paralleling the entire base 
of the mountain he passed behind a small 
group of rocks and emerged on the other side 
against the snow, where we could see him 
very plainly as he turned back toward the 
rocks. We were quite sure he had found a 
bed that would suit his purpose. We knew 
if he once lay down he was more than likely 
to stay for a long nap. 

In about twenty minutes we started after 
Old Bruin in earnest. Into alder and elder 
we plunged, plodding along just as fast as 
we could, bringing out the perspiration in 



114 Observations on Kodiak Island 

beads on our red faces. The sun was very 
hot and our tramp was difficult, — -over rocks, 
under limbs, using the toes of our guns 
as alpenstocks, we puffed and blew, going 
higher and higher. "Oh, how deceiving!" 
often I thought as we climbed each little 
knoll, only to find on arriving at the top that 
our objective point was still in the distance. 
To be sure, we rested many times before we 
reached the place. The uncertainty of the 
wind annoyed us greatly, and often the 
only way we could tell how it was blowing 
was by tossing a few crushed leaves into 
the air. 

After two hours' hard work we arrived at 
the place best suited for us to get a shot at 
Mr. Bear, when he should leave the thickest 
of the alder. We maneuvered around the 
top a considerable time, found his trail follow- 
ing a ravine up the mountain, and in this 
way he reached the opening of an extinct 
crater. At the very time when we were 
expecting a shot at any minute, he must have 
been on the other side of the mountain. 
Wearily we slipped, slid, and tramped our 
way down. By the time we reached camp, 
hungry and tired, it was well along in the 
afternoon. After getting something to eat 
we took a couple of hours' nap, and again 



Observations on Kodiak Island 115 

watched the foothills in the hope of discover- 
ing the object of our search, but in vain. 

We had several beautiful days; in fact, 
the middle of the day was too hot to hunt 
with any comfort. If you had been watching, 
you might have seen a solitary pair wending 
their way up along the river flat ; one tall and 
well built in proportion, with a broad -brimmed 
western hat on his head, the other small in 
stature, with a small slouch hat set on the 
back of his head, one carrying a Winchester 
and the other an Eastman kodak. If you 
had observed closely, you would have noticed 
that both hats were constantly turning in a 
semicircle from side to side, as the eyes were 
busy scanning every direction, expecting that 
the quarry would put in an appearance some- 
how, somewhere; for we had arrived at the 
conclusion that we would have to work harder 
in order to get a big specimen of the Kodiak 
bear. We followed the river valley for ten 
miles without seeing any fresh signs. About 
noon we ate our lunch, stretched out in the 
warm sun, and slept peacefully for several 
hours, then turned towards camp, hunting 
on our way back. 

Up to this time the bear seemed to live up 
on the very tops of the mountains and occa- 
sionally to come down about the snow-line 



ii6 Observations on Kodiak Island 

and again return. We had several wild-goose 
chases after them, only to discover that they 
were somewhere else. Now we noticed they 
were beginning to feed on the grass and come 
down into the valley. The leaves were 
pretty well developed by this time. Hunting 
big bear in the alder is very dangerous sport, 
for at any minute a big she with her cubs 
might rise up close by and make a charge. 
If our guns should catch in the brush, the 
jig would be all up, for the bear are large and 
hard to stop at close range. My guide said 
that not many men will hunt them in this 
way and told me he had had several narrow 
escapes himself. On one occasion he dropped 
a big fellow right at his feet. They vary in 
size ; the largest skin in the picture on page 105 
measured eleven by nine feet. They also vary 
in color from a dark brown to yellow. The 
specimens I have seen have a tawny crescent 
just back of the neck. 

The natives do not hunt the bear by follow- 
ing them through the brush, and have a 
wholesome fear of stalking them afoot. I 
have been told that the only way they will 
hunt is to follow the coast line in a bidarka, 
and when the bear come out to feed on the 
fish along some stream they kill them. My 
guide, who has had a great deal of experience 



Observations on Kodiak Island 117 

with the natives of the peninsula, told me 
that he could sell all the bear intestines to 
the natives, getting a good price for them. 
Out of these intestines they make water- 
proof coats, called kamlaykas. In the early 
spring they examine the intestines very 
carefully. They consider that in bear killed 
as soon as they come out of hibernation the 
intestines are useless, for they believe the 
bear retire to their winter quarters in the fall 
gorged with fish. The fish bones perforate 
the intestines and it takes several weeks for 
them to heal enough to make the best water- 
proof coats. 

We worked our way up to the snow-line 
and hunted until ten o'clock without getting 
a sight of one, although we trailed a large 
bear a long way through the grass. They are 
great tramps and will travel many miles 
without stopping. Where this one crossed 
the creek the water was not yet dried on the 
leaves when we came up. For four days the 
weather was fine and as it was not necessary 
to put our tent up, a great deal of time could 
be saved in this way. 

On our wandering about the island, about 
five o'clock one evening the fishermen's camp 
was reached and they treated us royally, gave 
us a square meal of candle fish, some tobacco, 



ii8 Observations on Kodiak Island 

sugar and tea, and sent us on our way rejoicing. 
We pulled along all day without any incident 
of much interest. Once two bald eagles 
soared over our heads, and my guide could 
not resist the temptation. Up went his rifle 
and three times in succession the shot brought 
some feathers out of the wings, while the 
fourth brought the bird pitching headlong 
into the bay. At one point we watched an 
eagle in the air with two crows after him. It 
was evident the crows had their nest nearby 
and the eagle had ventured too near. The 
crows seemed to have the best of the fight, 
for they would take turns in darting down 
on their foe, while the eagle seemed to be 
helpless in the air, for the crows would strike 
and be away before he could harm them. 

Now our thoughts turned homeward, but 
we realized that it would take some time to 
pull with oars seventy or eighty miles in a 
dory to Kodiak. Breaking camp one morn- 
ing about two o'clock, we tried to get out 
with the tide, but unfortunately we were 
caught on the flats and were forced to spend 
six hours until the tide returned. Being 
anxious to get home as soon as possible, we 
were using every effort to gain time, and 
one little experience we had I shall not forget 
as long as I live. The wind had been blowing 



Observations on Kodiak Island 119 

a gale all day, and about nine o'clock in the 
evening, after making slow progress, we came 
to a point which would require us either to 
lie by for the balance of the night, then follow 
the shore line for about ten miles, or cross 
directly over a distance of about three miles 
to the other side of the bay. The wind had 
died down considerably and was blowing 
toward us from the other shore; we were 
anxious to cross and discussed the advisa- 
bility of trying it, finally deciding that we 
could do so safely. With both at the oars, 
the dory loaded to within three or four inches 
of the water, and the breakers running, we 
started across and got along fairly well until 
we were about midway over. We naturally 
expected the whitecaps would diminish in 
size and the wind would be going down, when 
to our dismay the wind rose, the waves grew 
more boisterous, and about every seventh 
wave would toss part of its volume clear over 
us. Occasionally I would ship the oars, 
grab the tomato can, and bail frantically until 
the water was almost all out, — then to the 
oars again to assist in keeping the boat under 
control. My companion was skillful in hand- 
ling the boat, and while I was bailing out the 
craft he had to make desperate efforts to keep 
the bow cutting the rollers diagonally; but 



120 Observations on Kodiak Island 

gradually the wind seemed to get the boat 
out of its safest course, and then I had to take 
up the oars and help to right her again' To 
say the least, I realized the predicament we 
were in. At the time, I had almost given 
up the idea of reaching the shore in safety, 
and one who has never had a similar experience 
cannot understand the feeling of hope that 
rose within us as we advanced nearer the 
other side. 

While we were still battling with wind and 
wave, I promised myself that if we reached 
safety I would never again risk a similar 
experience, and yet on the following day we 
pulled the boat fourteen miles across the 
mouth of another such bay, with the water 
as smooth as glass all the way over. Know- 
ing the rapidity with which the wind can 
rise over those treacherous straits and the 
risk we were taking after the experience of 
the previous day, neither of us spoke more 
than half a dozen words during the entire 
time until we landed safely. 

Returning at last to Kodiak, we caught a 
boat for Valdez, whence we engaged passage 
on the homeward cruise. Taking the outside 
route from Valdez to Seattle, we experienced 
a rough voyage. At the captain's table 
were seated about a dozen passengers, all 



Observations on Kodiak Island 121 

in high spirits in anticipation of reaching home, 
and thankful that we had not taken passage 
on the Valentia, the preceding steamer, which 
was wrecked on the rocks before it got 
rightly started. One by one the members of 
the party would fail to put in an appearance 
on account of seasickness. One day the 
captain complimented the author on being 
such a good sailor, but in answer I suggested 
that he wait a little. I felt it coming on, and 
sure enough the captain had the table to 
himself at the very next meal. 

One night while lying in my bunk I was 
aroused from a doze by a shout from the 
occupant of the under bunk: "There 's a rat 
in your bed! There's a rat in your bed!" 
I looked out to see my informant standing on 
a chair. In a short time we had a light, and 
in the bunk we found a Mother Carey's chick 
that had been attracted by the light on the 
boat and entered the room. We caught the 
little bird and kept it until morning. It 
seemed not to be disturbed by our attentions, 
indeed was content to cuddle down in our 
hands. Its apparent tameness was probably 
due to the fact that its habits are partly 
nocturnal. 

After three or four stormy days, with the 
sea running high and breaking in whitecaps 



122 Observations on Kodiak Island 

over the deck, not a thing to be seen save 
the sailors and the albatross following in the 
wake of the steamer, we reached the port of 
Seattle. The vision and the sensation of 
the tossing and pitching waters remained 
with us, and on landing we found that our 
"sea legs" made walking on terra firma a 
very awkward process. 



CHAPTER III 

HUNTING BIG GAME ON THE KENAI PENINSULA 

"\A7"E arrived at Seldovia, on Cook's Inlet, 
'^ ' on the evening of August 28th. Be- 
tween the steamer landing and the town, 
a creek, unbridged as yet, enters the bay, 
and except at ebb tide the passengers are 
compelled to cross the arm of the bay by 
rowboat. The tide being then at flood, it 
was necessary to get a dory before we could 
reach the village. One of the natives who 
hailed from the cannery nearby was the proud 
owner of an old dugout. We knew the water 
was quite shallow across the arm of the fiord, 
yet some of the party were fearful of the 
craft. We all got into the boat, and how 
quickly the inexperienced displayed their 
awkwardness. Instead of stepping carefully 
to the center they landed on the side, causing 
the dugout to ship water. After righting 
matters we started across, when "Clumsy," 
in trying to make himself comfortable, rocked 

123 



124 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

the craft and" Timid" gave peremptory com- 
mands to return, which we did. Two of 
the party got out and the rest were landed 
safely on the other shore. In a few hours we 
were all aboard a home-made tug of six tons 
burden, called the Bydarky, and on our way 
up the inlet some sixty miles to Kenai. We 
retired to our bunks shortly after the boat 
got under way, and when we awoke in the 
morning we were lying at anchor near the 
beach at Kenai. The captain of the boat, 
being very anxious to get out on the tide, 
asked us to unload our duffel as quickly as 
possible, so that he might start at once. In 
our haste we overlooked Doc's hand satchel 
but did not discover this until too late. 

Kenai is a little village built on a plateau 
overlooking the inlet, a sixty-foot sand em- 
bankment down to the water's edge, lending 
it the appearance of a fortified town. We 
ascended the road, entered the post-office and 
store, and began to make inquiries about 
guides, boats, and equipment. We soon 
learned that we could get white guides for 
ten dollars per day and "keep," and natives 
for five dollars; white packers for five dollars 
per day and "keep, " natives for three dollars. 
After scouring the village we found two 
licensed native guides and two packers and 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 125 

gave them instructions to get our boats and 
provisions ready as quickly as possible, so 
that we could leave on the next flood tide 
for the Kenai River. In selecting guides and 
packers, I think it is a mistake to take natives, 
as they are naturally indolent, lack the 
interest the white man has in his work, are 
over-sensitive about their treatment, and sulk 
upon the least provocation; and then one 
never can impress upon them the eagerness 
of the party to secure, in the limited time at 
its disposal, photographs of big game in its 
natural haunts, or a desirable trophy. Time 
is the only object to them when they are 
out with a party at five dollars a day. To 
illustrate, on this occasion we had made an 
agreement with the head guide that the 
packers would go with us for three dollars 
a day and "keep," but we were not out more 
than a three days' "line" of the river until 
they demanded three fifty, and when refused 
began to sulk and lag behind with their work, 
and for fear they would leave us before we 
got up the river we were obliged to grant 
their demand. Indeed, they will sometimes 
purposely lead parties away from the best 
game country in order to keep them out as 
long as possible. 

The evening before we arrived at Kenai, 



126 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

two miners had come to town for provisions 
and had sold their dust. They then started 
out for a good time, landed in a "joint," 
constimed all the "houch," after which they 
proceeded to "paint the town red." They 
succeeded fairly well, ended up with broken 
heads and limbs, and with a bullet in the 
breast of one. In the village was a doctor, 
some eighty years of age, who had long been 
in the habit of locating for the summer at 
Kenai to practice medicine. When the old 
man learned that there was a doctor in our 
party he looked us up and invited a consul- 
tation. Doc accepted the invitation, and 
on examination found the lead had entered 
the side, glanced around the ribs, and embed- 
ded itself in the muscles. He was very much 
surprised to find that the patient was wrapped 
in an extremely dirty towel, and everything 
was filthy. He said to the local physician, 
"Are you not afraid of the wound becoming 
infected?" Whereupon the latter informed 
him that no pus ever formed in wounds in 
that country and that infection was unknown. 
Our doctor made considerable inquiry about 
the matter, for he was very much interested, 
and learned that this was true. 

The man who did the shooting was arrested 
and placed in the custody of the town bailiff. 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 127 

but was permitted to roam over the country 
at will. The authorities well know, and so 
do the prisoners, that it would be suicide of 
the worst form for the guilty to try to escape 
to the woods, for it means death of the most 
horrible sort — ^by exposure and starvation. 
The only avenue of escape was by boat that 
left twice a week. Inquiring about the case 
on our return trip, we learned that the com- 
missioner had arrived, a day was fixed for 
hearing, the testimony was beyond a doubt 
conclusive against the prisoner, and he was 
held without bail for trial at Valdez, whither 
he was taken by the commissioner. How- 
ever, the injured man recovered and the 
gallows was again defrauded. 

Our party consisted of four, and for brev- 
ity's sake we will call them "Doc," "Old 
Sourdough," " Cheechalker, " and "Esau." 
The provisions had all been purchased at 
Seattle and packed carefully in water-proof 
bags and cans. Many and varied were the 
suggestions made by the party as to what 
should be taken along. Doc suggested tal- 
cum powder, frostilene, and vaseline, with 
pills of various colors, red, white, and blue. 
He had a special satchel well filled with anti- 
septics, anodynes, astringents, styptics, and 
bactericides, but unfortunately for his peace 



128 Big: Game on Kenai Peninsula 

of mind he discovered, too late, that the 
precious satchel had been left on the By- 
darky, the little boat that brought us over 
from Seldovia to Kenai, and there were 
no immediate prospects of recovering the 
important parcel. Doc looked wistfully 
after the little boat disappearing in the 
distance as it plowed its way through the 
tide rifts, and submitted with such grace 
as he could command to the chaffing of his 
companions. 

By way of firearms Cheechalker (northern 
name for "tenderfoot") had quite an assort- 
ment, — a ten-gauge shotgun with five hundred 
rounds of ammunition, one Springfield army 
rifle, model of 1909, a Winchester .30-.30, and 
several others. Cheechalker insisted upon his 
tin bathtub, but Old Sourdough finally paci- 
fied him with a description of a bath a la Wil- 
derness. This is accomplished by erecting a 
tepee, like that the Indians build, around a 
fire in a small depression filled with stones, 
then, when the bather is ready, removing the 
fire and pouring water on the stones, thus 
producing steam enough to open the pores of 
the skin, after which a good rubbing at the 
hands of an Indian valet completes the ablu- 
tion. In this way one might get along for 
a few weeks at least without his tub. For 



130 Bi^ Game on Kenai Peninsula 



this substitute Cheechalker finally consented 
to give up the useful article. 

Esau carefully selected a prospector's pick, 
gold pan, and shovel to do a little prospecting 
on the side. In his telescope he had his tooth- 
brush, comb, hair-brush, manicure set, etc., 
which he considered absolutely necessary 
for his personal comfort. He also carried his 
own knife and fork, tin cup, and tin plate, 
each artistically marked with his own symbol. 

Old Sourdough watched these arrange- 
ments with an expression of disgust. He 
carried a red bandanna handkerchief dangling 
from his belt, containing his change of socks, 
some smoking tobacco, and matches. Later 
he improvised a very serviceable pipe by 
fitting a shot cartridge shell with a split 
willow stem, artistically wrapped with thread. 

After the packing was completed we em- 
barked upon the Kenai River in two twenty- 
foot dories, with the tide in our favor. The 
river meandered like a wriggling snake for 
about a mile through the marshy flats ; beyond, 
the shore was lined to the water's edge with 
Cottonwood, birch, and spruce. On our way, 
ducks, geese, and many other water-fowl were 
flushed by the noise of the oars in the locks 
and the splash of the blades as they dipped 
into the water. The guides were making 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 131 

all haste, being anxious to get as far up the 
river as possible, knowing it was no mean 
task to pull, line, and pole the mile or more 
to the head of tide water without the aid 
of full tide. 

When we reached our first camp the flies 
and mosquitoes were very plentiful. The 
boys were loud in their forceful expressions 
against the songsters and their near cousins, 
the black flies. All hands were busy, some 
erecting the tents, others cutting spruce 
boughs for a good bed, and the rest getting 
something to eat for the hungry party. 

Pitching camp very quickly developed the 
inexperience of Cheechalker. Always willing 
to lend a helping hand, he started the fire on 
the windward side, filling our eyes with smoke. 
The site he selected for the tent showed plenty 
of roots, well calculated to furnish an uneasy 
experience for the night. When he pointed 
it out to us, we soon overruled him. The 
duffel was hardly unloaded until Doc was 
ransacking the outfit for his .22 rifle to shoot 
some Canada grouse (Dendragapus canaden- 
sis). They are very plentiful in the spruce 
timber and when flushed will fly to a limb, 
where they sit and crane their necks at the 
hunter, who, if he is wise enough to pick off 
the lowest bird at each shot, may, if he so 



132 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

desires, clean out the entire covey. In the 
meantime one of the party had shot a red 
squirrel, and at the suggestion of Old Sour- 
dough it was nailed to the limb of a tree in 
anticipation of a little fun at Doc's expense. 
On his return the old Indian said in his guttural 
voice (pointing at the squirrel), "Look! look! 
him big squirrel, shoot!!" Old Sourdough, 
meanwhile helping the fun along by craning 
his neck in every direction, said, "Where? 
where? " In the meantime Doc was making a 
mad rush for his .35 Winchester; crack went 
the gun, off went the ears of Mr. Squirrel, 
and he gently swayed on the nail; once more 
the gun cracked, and this time the body fell 
to the ground in fragments. Then the woods 
rang again and again with the shouts of the 
party, while Doc threatened dire vengeance 
on those who perpetrated the joke. 

After dinner, a smoke, and a few stories, the 
Indians departed to their tent and we all 
stretched out in a row for our night's sleep. 
But too soon, for one fellow pulled the blanket 
from his neighbor. Then there was a "rough 
house," and after that duels to the death with 
mosquitoes, all punctuated with such a variety 
of exclamations that the vocabulary of each 
was exhausted before quiet was restored. 

On the way out next morning the hunters 




O 
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Xi 

e 
1^ 






134 Bis^ Game on Kenai Peninsula 



were boasting about the number of fine 
trophies they were going to take home, for 
all reports indicated plenty of sheep and 
moose. About that time one of the party 
remembered we had forgotten to bring salt 
along for curing the ' ' fine trophies ; ' ' then 
a call was sent out for a meeting to discuss 
ways and means to procure the necessary 
salt. At the caucus it was decided to send the 
packers back to Kenai with a boat, and a halt 
was called until the following day, when the 
return of the packers was expected. They 
arrived in good time with a bushel of coarse 
salt. 

Kenai River is very swift and cannot be 
ascended in a dory pulled with oars, so the 
boat must be "lined" along the shore. There 
is no beach along the river and the shore 
is almost impassable by foot on account of 
trees growing at every conceivable angle and 
hanging over and under the water. 

In the morning we started, two natives 
and two hunters to a boat, the leader with 
his two-hundred-foot line well in advance, 
carefully keeping the rope on the river side 
of all obstructions. Doc selected the position 
of captain (steersman) of one of the dories. 
Cheechalker took hold of the rope, but before 
long he was panting for breath, being quite 



Bi^ Game on Kenai Peninsula 135 



fleshy and tipping the scales at two hundred 
pounds. He soon found that carrying his 
weight on the many ups and downs over 
fallen timbers, with the washouts along the 
bank and the alder growing thick at places 
along the shore, was not a joy ride over a 
macadamized road in an auto, nor was it 
conducive to easy respiration. The advan- 
tage a man of experience has over the in- 
experienced individual, in making his way 
over and under logs and overcoming other 
difficulties with the least resistance, is wonder- 
ful. For instance, experience has taught the 
veteran that he must not step on a slanting 
stick, a slime-covered stone, or grass concealing 
a washout in the bank. He likewise learns 
to avoid many other little indiscretions that 
cause heavy falls and bruising of the limbs 
and body, which will wear out the vitality 
of the strongest. Before long Cheechalker, 
who had had several tumbles into the water, 
had to have assistance to get out. He was 
soon lagging behind, and ere the first lap of 
the journey was completed he was begging 
us to let him get into the boat. Travel was 
delayed long enough for him to don dry 
clothing, and when we started he refused to 
walk any more, saying it was out of the 
question, — he was completely "tuckered 



136 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

out." It was then that one of the natives 
hesitated for some time before he would 
consent to go on, for it required all the red 
men's strength and skill on the line to get the 
boat along without this additional load of two 
hundred pounds. Cheechalker, with his red 
face, looked for all the world like a lobster, 
so Old Sourdough took pity on him and had 
a heart-to-heart talk with the natives. His 
argument was, "Him sick, heap sick, — ^like 
turtle, no walk!" This and similar logic was 
used for a period of about five minutes, 
whereupon the two natives looked at each 
other, emitted a few grunts, and started up 
the river. 

At the end of the first day's work we had 
made about eight miles and built our camp- 
fire for the night. Nothing unusual happened 
that evening, but the inevitable "no-see- 
ims" and mosquitoes had sufficient time to 
gather and kept us busy moving at short 
intervals from place to place, following the 
smudge smoke. Cheechalker, although na- 
turally sluggish on account of his avoirdu- 
pois, was quite active now, first to windward 
and then to leeward of the smudge, between 
periods of relief from smoke and ''no-see- 
ims. " Doc complained at frequent intervals 
about the ''pesky critters," donned his veil, 




a 
<u 

a 
o 

>. 

I 







138 Bio^ Game on Kenai Peninsula 



and with hands in his pockets strutted around, 
restless and impatient. 

Old Sourdough, without any modem frills, 
sat quietly smoking his makeshift pipe, evi- 
dently enjoying his smoke, but occasionally 
disturbed and raising his hand to chase an 
importunate pest out of his eye or ear. 

A fallen spruce furnished boughs for a 
temporary bed for the tired campers after 
a day's lining, pulling, and wading. Each 
man opened his pack, spread his rubber 
blanket on the boughs, and one long tarpaulin 
was laid over all. Then each one lay down 
wrapped in his blanket, and another tarpaulin 
was drawn over all four in a row. Thus 
settled, we enjoyed the sweet but restless sleep 
of the weary. Toward morning when the ice 
was forming on the water in the camp pails, 
there was a tug of war going on most of the 
time between the two end men for the control 
of the upper canvas, and as the middle man 
expressed it later, "it had made three round 
trips during the night," for he felt it " sawing 
its way across " under his nose. 

Ever to our ears through the night came 
the roar of the river, here two hundred yards 
wide, rushing day and night to the sea, grand 
and powerful, glistening here and there in 
the morning twilight as the raging waters 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 139 

boiled and seethed over the hidden bowlders 
that threw the water as though some huge 
monster were trying to "buck" the current. 

As soon as breakfast was over every man 
went to his task, the blankets were rolled 
in separate bundles, the entire equipment 
packed carefully, the guns tied fast for fear 
of the boat capsizing in the strong current. 
The leader started with the rope, two others 
followed, each taking a hold in turn, and the 
captain steered. The leader in advance put 
the rope on the river side of all trees, rocks, 
and debris ; the other two, climbing out on the 
trees that extended over the water, assisted in 
pulling and keeping the rope clear. Occasion- 
ally we struck rapids, where the current was 
swift and caused much trouble to the boats 
by driving one or the other against a hidden 
bowlder, where it would hang as on a pivot, 
swinging backward and forward until one of 
the Indians would wade out in the ice-cold 
water up to his waist and release it. 

The mania to kill was very strong in the 
hunters and at dawn the most bloodthirsty 
was astir, exhorting the cook to build a fire 
in the Yukon stove and hustling the packers 
to get ready for our up-river trip by loading 
the boats with the dufifel. Across the beauti- 
ful river, sparkling with the silt of the glaciers. 



140 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

aglow with the morning sun, stood a soHtary, 
snow-white herring gull, breakfasting upon 
a king salmon that had been cast by the 
swift current into an eddy and gently washed 
ashore. The passion for wilful destruction 
was uppermost in the heart of the gunner, 
and as quickly as possible he had a leaden 
missile on its way across the water. With 
the field-glasses could be seen the white bird 
with its graceful wings spread helplessly over 
the water and the beautiful white feathers 
crimsoned with its life blood, slowly moving 
with the current to the sea. 

In a short time stakes were pulled, duffel 
packed, lines adjusted, and we were on our 
way. There was a little commotion at the 
head of the line when Simeon, one of the 
Indians, spied a large porcupine plodding 
his way deeper into the forest. Letting go 
of the rope he made a rush for the "porky, " 
caught it by the tail, held on till he got a 
club nearby, and proceeded to pound it over 
the head. The natives are very fond of 
"porky," and when we pitched camp in the 
evening Simeon was very busy singeing the 
hair over the fire before boiling. 

On our way up the river we were agreeably 
surprised to see a stranger walk into camp. 
Tall, erect, with clean-cut features, he looked 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 141 

the very picture of health. He wore a broad- 
brimmed hat with the garb of a hunter. 
Lunch was about ready, and on invitation 
he dined with us. In conversation we soon 
learned that he was a college man, a graduate 



<J 




" Porky " 

of one of the leading colleges in the East, and 
had come from our own eastern city some 
fourteen years before. He told us that for sev- 
eral years he had corresponded with relatives 
and friends, but finally quit writing because 
he had not yet made his stake. However, 
he now had many encouraging prospects, 
and before long expected to make good and 



142 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

return east. It was surprising to us how an 
educated man could spend fourteen of the 
best years of his life in his little tent, with 
raosquitoes and " no-see-ims " as his only 
companions, dreaming, dreaming of the find 
that never came, and with his pan, pick, and 
shovel digging every here and there, with 
color, color everywhere, but not in paying 
quantities. On our way down we found him 
as usual, dreaming of the prospects he had 
staked, and when we left him a sack of flour 
and a few other necessaries of life he was very 
grateful, showing that a warm heart beat 
beneath the rough exterior. We bid him 
good-bye, and a large tear coursed down his 
cheek as he said: "I wish I were going with 
you, boys; but not yet; soon, I hope." Is 
it any wonder that the steamers on their 
return trips carry so many insane men to the 
States? The entire river has been pros- 
pected and staked; the blazed trees and 
indelible pencil marks are about the only 
method of indicating that a claim has been 
staked. About halfway up the river we 
came to the deserted tent of the fellows who 
had participated in the shooting at Kenai. 
In order to have a pleasant time on a trip 
of this sort it is very essential to have com- 
panions accustomed to "roughing it. " Every 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 143 

man in the party must sacrifice individual 
comfort for the benefit of the camp as a whole. 
I have in mind a trip taken to Alaska with 
another party where one individual was so 
selfish that every action was for his own 
comfort and enjoyment. For instance, he 
was always first to eat and managed to get 
a double portion of everything, cooked and 
uncooked. If there was one duck, one grouse, 
or one trout, he managed to cook the one and 
gorge himself and eat all to his own satis- 
faction. In the morning he was always first 
up and ready for breakfast, taking care of 
his individual interests and paying no atten- 
tion to others. In fact, he would even 
permit the destruction of goods not his own 
without showing the least interest. In the 
same party was another character in many 
ways the opposite, always last to the table 
and never looking out for his own things; 
going around growling about this, that, and 
the other thing, — never in time for breakfast, 
lunch, or supper. There is no better oppor- 
tunity to find out the good qualities of a 
companion than to go camping with him in 
the wilds. A selfish disposition soon becomes 
unbearable, and many a good outing has 
been spoiled by having such a fellow in the 
party. Few men are so constituted that they 



144 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

can stand "roughing it" very long under 
trying circumstances without showing the 
"yellow streak." 

After seven days' hard work we reached 
Lake Skilak. The sun was just setting, 
casting a mellow crimson reflection over 




The Tonsorial Artist at Work 



the placid waters. The beautiful lake was 
hemmed in on all sides by verdured slopes 
and snow-capped peaks, the dark green of 
the spruce intermingling with patches of 
Cottonwood clothed in autumnal colors, "the 
sear, the yellow leaf" predominating. On 
the surface of the water, idling away the 
time, were little flocks of ducks, and in the 
air were black cormorants heavy in their 



Bier Game on Kenai Peninsula 145 



flight. This serene panorama filled the nature- 
lovers in the party with joy and delight, 
and they felt themselves well repaid for all 
the hardship of the week. The Indians 
wanted to make camp at once, and showed 
their displeasure when they learned that we 
desired to take advantage of a strong fair 
wind and hoist our sail regardless of their 
wishes. We made elegant time to an island, 
on which we camped for the night. The 
next day we reached the head of the lake, 
where we expected to spend several weeks. 
The party had decided to make a try after 
white sheep on the mountain beyond the 
divide. By this time Cheechalker had had 
enough of tramping and quietly informed 
us that we might count him out; he was 
perfectly satisfied, he said, to remain with 
the cook at the permanent camp. This was 
located at the mouth of a little stream which 
entered the lake after a precipitous course 
from the glacier at the summit, down the 
mountain canyon, through the narrow gulch 
of the upper foothills to the wooded valley, 
chasing and tumbling under and over moss- 
grown and decayed trees, fallen giants of 
other years. The under foliage had been 
destroyed by a fire which was still smoldering 
here and there among the moss, and the sun, 



10 



146 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

entering the opening between the trees, 
shimmered and fluttered on the spray-moist- 
ened bowlders like fantastic rays of Aladdin's 
lamp. Here we pitched our tent among the 
stately birches, intending to make this our 
headquarters for some time. 

Taking a stroll a little way up the beach 
we were agreeably surprised to find we had 
neighbors, and were interested to know who 
they were and what they were doing. One 
suggested prospectors, another hunters; in 
the meantime, while we were looking at their 
outfit for a suggestion, a collection of stones 
in the niche of a tree, the skull of a rodent, 
an insect or two, answered the question be- 
yond the shadow of a doubt, — a naturalist 
in pursuit of data that the world might be 
benefited by his researches. The following 
day his packer came into camp with a beauti- 
ful specimen of Ball's sheep {Ovis dalli nelsofi). 
We then learned that it was Mr. Bell, from 
the University of Minneapolis. 

We left camp for the top of the mountain, 
every man with his pack. The tramp along 
the trail was interesting, leading as it did 
through spruce, birch, and cottonwood until 
we reached the end, where we were obliged 
to push through low alder and "devil's clubs. " 
The latter average about one inch in thick- 




CO 



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o 



a> 



148 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

ness, and in this locality grow as high as a 
man's head. They are usually straight and 
branchless, of a yellowish-green color, and are 
thickly covered with slender sharp spines 
that readily penetrate the clothing and cause 
great discomfort to one who undertakes to 
pass through a thicket. 

The ascent was very steep from this point 
until we reached the altitude of "little sticks. " 
One of the Nimrods was in advance a short 
distance, and so anxious was he to reach the 
sheep country that he went off the trail and 
had to be recalled. But his aggressiveness 
was short-lived, and long before midday he 
was shouting at the top of his voice from the 
rear end of the string of packs, "Wait! Wait! 
You 're going too d — fast ! " In a short time 
we ran into a bees' nest, and you should have 
seen the party scatter to get out of raiding 
distance of the nest, every man for himself, 
packs bouncing, hats waving, all shouting 
until we reached a safe distance. 

As we ascended the mountain the mos- 
quitoes grew scarcer and scarcer. About the 
"land of little sticks" we stopped for a light 
lunch. Looking in the direction indicated 
by the guide we saw a large moose feeding 
in a little swale. Doc could not see him, try 
as he would. The Indian endeavored to 




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150 Bior Game on Kenai Peninsula 



assist him by locating the animal with refer- 
ence to a good-sized rock, but his untrained 
eye, even with the aid of field-glasses, could 
not make out the outline and we had to give 
up in despair, although he was very keen to 
see it. Blueberries were quite plentiful all 
around us and after we ate our lunch we filled 
up with them as a dessert. We came to a 
little pond of crystal water at the foot of a 
small glacier, and as soon as we reached the 
margin some twenty-five or thirty ptarmigan 
took flight in all directions. They were still 
in their moulting plumage. By this time 
the largest man in the party was unable to 
keep the pace, and lagging behind kept the 
entire party back. In starting up the canyon 
the ambitious member turned up the right 
side, but erelong came to a place that was 
impassable and began to shout, "I can't go 
any farther along here." One of the others 
answered, "Slide, slide!" and the mighty 
Nimrod took the suggestion and slid down the 
shale to the bottom and then began the ascent 
from another point on the opposite side, 
where he found traveling much easier. This 
is the common experience of the over-zealous 
tenderfoot. 

There was a low pass over the mountain 
and we had to wind our way up, down, and 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 151 

around in order to make it, for it was only 
accessible by way of an almost perpendicular 
rock. The leaders reached the top and were 
required to wait for the rear-guard, but the 
tail end, before he could get up, had to have 




Home of the White Sheep 

the assistance of a rope tied around his body. 
What with pulling and tugging by the guides 
on the upper end of the rope, the big fellow 
was gently and carefully landed in safety. 
When he reached us he was puffing and blow- 
ing like a wind-broken horse and insisted we 
must camp right there, for he could go no 
farther. And although we had intended to 
reach the valley some five miles beyond, 



152 Bic^ Game on Kenai Peninsula 



where we could get wood and water, we were 
forced, out of sympathy for a big-hearted, 
congenial companion, to camp just where 
we were, he being completely tired out from 
his trying experience. 

After a restless night, with visions of sheep 
and photographs galore, we were up and 
ready to start about the time the ptarmigan 
were clucking their announcement of the 
rosy dawn. The country was cut into gently- 
sloping valleys clothed with verdure, between 
long ridges of mountains partly covered with 
snow. Through the glasses a dozen or more 
white specks on the mountain-side could be 
distinguished as sheep moving slowly as they 
grazed. We were too far away to tell whether 
there were any big rams in the flock. 

Considering the topographical conditions, 
the wind and the method of approach, we 
mapped out our modus operandi and started 
up the ridge of the mountain on the right. 
It was a long, hard pull and by the time we 
reached the summit all were wearied, espe- 
cially my companion, who kept shouting a 
request not to go so fast. Several hours 
after we spied the sheep we were crawling 
stealthily over the backbone of the ridge 
where we expected to find the flock, but 
were sadly disappointed. The photographer 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 153 

threw his kodak back into the case with a 
quiet ''d — "; the other pushed his "safety" 
on, threw his gun over his shoulder, and turned 
back with a shaking of the head that was 
more expressive than language. After ex- 
amining carefully every likely place, all that 
we could find of the flock was one lonely 
little lamb looking at us as though in disgust. 
Presently it went away down into the valley 
and we watched it as it ascended the opposite 
side and disappeared as a little speck over 
the divide. 

When we left camp in the morning the 
tenderfoot was still in bed and on our return 
we were surprised to see how happy he was. 
Pointing to the carcass of a little lamb, and 
beating his breast with his good right hand, 
he said: "I Ve got my sheep. No more 
tramping those d — mountains for me. I 'm 
going back to camp." We were very much 
disgusted to think he would travel six thou- 
sand miles and spend so much money to hunt 
one half-day and then turn ' ' quitter. ' ' We 
used every argtmient in our power and as 
tactfully as possible tried to persuade him 
not to turn back, but of no avail. Turning 
to us he retorted: "You old Sourdoughs, I 
would n't follow you over those mountains 
for ten thousand dollars." So with a packer 



154 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

he started around the mountain towards 
camp, happy as a lark, promising us he would 
send the packer back with flour and other 
provisions. Little did we suspect that he 
would try to starve us out of the camp and 
thereby force us to return to headquarters. 

According to prearranged plan, we intended 
to move down the valley and select a camp 
site where we could get wood. About the 
time we started the wind blew a gale, bringing 
rain and sleet. For four hours we tramped 
through the wet underbrush with the elements 
pelting and lashing us in their fury. We were 
drenched to the skin. As soon as our camp 
site was selected, we threw off our packs in a 
drizzling rain and each man turned to his 
task. Two arranged the canvas under a 
spreading scrub hemlock, for we needed the 
protection from the wind. Soon a huge fire 
was going, dispensing its cheerful warmth 
through the gloom, driving away the blues 
of my companion, who was beginning to 
complain a great deal. Disrobing, we hung 
our wet clothing over the surrounding limbs, 
where it was soon steaming away, while the 
hunters were toasting their shins as they 
waited for dry clothes and liquid refreshment, 
for by this time the teapot was trying to 
quench the little side fire and the sizzling 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 155 

lamb chops were about done to a finish. 
After a while my friend began to thaw out ; 
turning to me, he said: "Billy, I wonder what 
our friends would say if they saw us now. 
I have no doubt they would suggest a com- 







Seeking a. Ford 



mittee of the person," and I answered: "But 
this is only one side of it. We enjoy life by 
contrast. When we get into our dry clothing, 
how we will enjoy it, and when the sun shines 
to-morrow, how it will fill our hearts with 
gladness! Every thorn has its rose, the 
darkest cloud its silver lining." 

After a good night's rest and something 
to eat, we divided into two parties. My 



156 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

companion and his guide going toward the 
north, I started westward up Benjamin Creek 
with the intention of crossing, but the current 
was so swift that it was impossible to find a 
ford. Although the guide, with me on his 
back, waded into the ice-cold water several 
times, he was forced to return for fear of being 
carried off his feet. On the opposite side 
of the creek could be seen a great many sheep, 
some feeding, others lying down on rocky 
points from which they could command a 
good view of the surrounding valley. They 
are very quick to distinguish any strange 
object a long way off, and before you can 
get at all near they take to the simimit and 
disappear beyond. In the flock there was 
not a single head that could be considered a 
trophy worthy of the chase, even to a ten- 
derfoot. I am sorry I did not have a tele- 
photo lens, for I could have secured a fairly 
good picture of the group. My friend, George 
Shiras, III., got many good pictures in this 
same location with a telephoto lens. 

In ecstasy I followed the stream, reveling 
in the solitude of the rocky fastnesses, where 
the right of eminent domain is granted by 
the Creator to none save the cloven-hoofed 
creatures who have roamed there unmolested 
from time immemorial. But now they are 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 157 

being taught a new lesson. The modern gun 
in hands controlled by steady nerves and 
unerring eye sounds the death knell of the 
species, unless they are given protectiono 
They are learning slowly and by bitter experi- 
ence that even at any distance they are in 
imminent danger from the rifle. 

Away yonder on the uppermost crag stood 
His Majesty, as though chiseled out of and 
forming a part of the very rock itself. A 
little below stood his companion, another 
big ram. Selecting the lower sheep for a 
trophy, I elevated the sights for six hundred 
yards. I instructed the guide to watch with 
the field-glasses where the lead struck the 
rock. A loud report, a great recoil, and a 
thud carried the message of danger to the 
curious, though unsuspecting, sheep. The 
guide said, "A little too high." In the 
meantime the rams were nervous and unde- 
cided what to do, seeming uncertain as to the 
exact location of the enemy. Another thud 
on the rocks, this time below, and then away 
they went out of sight over the crest. We 
did not see them again, and they offered the 
only desirable trophies of their kind that we 
found on the trip. In the fall the big rams 
roam together a great deal in the most 
remote and inaccessible places, the ewes 



158 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

generally flocking by themselves. It seems 
to be the popular belief in that country that 
the large rams separate from the flocks and 
withdraw by themselves at that season. We 
saw several flocks, an average of seventy-five 
sheep a day, but there were no big rams 
among them. 

Our attention is attracted by a movement 
on the ground, a glimpse of a marmot, as, 
making a bolt along its well-worn path, it 
disappears into a hole, reappears, and again 
disappears, — a caper which is characteristic 
of the little animal, as though he were curious 
to know something definite about the invaders 
of his domain. This habit frequently gives 
the hunter a shot, but their tenacity of life 
is so great that they usually get back into 
the hole and one seldom recovers the body. 
Their flesh is quite a delicacy among the 
natives, as well as to the hunter when hungry. 
He is conscious of their presence at all times, 
for their whistling can be heard continually 
in every direction. 

The ptarmigan are plentiful, some partly 
concealed among the rocks, and some walking 
about craning their necks, all beautiful in 
their moulting plumage. Each is in a different 
stage of transformation from the handsome 
brown of summer to the more beautiful 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 159 

winter dress of snow-white. How wonderful 
are the ways of the Creator for the preserva- 
tion of the species! If the siimmer plumage 
were to remain until the whole land is covered 
with snow, how easy it would be for the 
ptarmigan hawk, occasionally seen soaring 
in the air, to distinguish the bird, make a 
dart, pick it up for his evening meal — and 
thus bring about the speedy extermination 
of this beautiful species! They are so tame 
you could kill with stones all you would eat. 
The manner in which nature provides protec- 
tion for the inhabitants of the snow peaks 
is illustrated again in the case of the sheep, 
which are white. 

We saw many beautiful little flowers, the 
bluebell always in evidence, daisies, a bunch 
of forget-me-nots, and what fascinated me 
beyond description, — several bunches of vio- 
lets away above the snow-line. They took 
me back to the springtime in the Middle 
States. The wild geraniums were in bloom, 
varying in color from a delicate purple to a 
faded hue, with leaves colored from green to 
scarlet. 

When we left the main camp provisions 
enough to last two days were packed. It 
was our intention to keep a packer going 
between camps carrying our supplies; thus 



i6o Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

we could move from place to place as light 
as possible. When Doc returned from the 
last camp to headquarters with his lamb and 
a packer to show him the way, he promised 
faithfully to send the Indian back to us with 
a good supply of provisions. We suggested 
writing down the articles desired, but he 
thought this was not necessary, — that a good 
supply would be forthcoming. Thus we sepa- 
rated. My companion was uneasy for fear 
of the Indian not being able to find our camp, 
for our supplies were getting low. I had no 
fear from this source, knowing well the 
natural instinct of a child of the forest for 
taking our trail, which was so pronounced 
that even a novice could follow us. You 
may imagine the chagrin of the party when 
he returned on the following day with no 
flour and only bread enough to last one meal. 
We then came to the conclusion that Doc 
was tired of the hunt and had adopted this 
means of forcing us by starvation to return 
to the provision camp. We hunted all that 
day with only one small biscuit apiece. It 
was raining, and in the evening, when we 
returned to camp wet and hungry, a large 
fire was built and our wet clothing dried. 
A tin cup full of boiling hot tea soon revived 
our depressed spirits. This, with a few ptar- 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula i6i 

migan roasted on a spit, enabled us to retire 
in good condition. 

By this time my comrade could not stand 
the hardships any longer and wanted to 
return to the lake. He insisted that there 
were no big trophies in the country. I 
succeeded in getting him to stay a day or 
two longer by telling him I had seen a large 
ram. The last day we hunted together we 
came upon a prospector's cache. On top of 
a large stone we noticed a pile of small stones 
arranged in a way that at first sight indicated 
the hand of man. Examining the pile we 
found beans, flour, and dried fruits. Although 
we had been living on porcupine for two days, 
the natives refused to touch the cache. There 
is an unwritten law among prospectors and 
hunters that is never violated in this far- 
away land. The cache is never disturbed, 
for they know full well that some fellow-man 
is depending upon the provisions to reach 
civilization, and to disturb it may cost the 
life of the owner. However, if one in a 
starving condition helps himself, he leaves 
his name and the owner considers it an act 
of humanity. Those only who have been 
in a similar situation can appreciate what 
it means. One of the guides insisted it was 
cached by the owner, who had gone back to 



1 62 Big: Game on Kenai Peninsula 



'fe 



civilization and left it in the hope that some 
person in great need might find it. How we 
longed to have a mess of those navy beans, 
but we had not yet reached the condition 
where we could help ourselves, for we were 
only one day's march from plenty. 

Finally my companion had his way, and 
in the morning, though the weather looked 
threatening, we started, two of the packers 
towards camp with the outfit, and the hunters 
for the summit once more. While resting 
a little before we made the ascent of a high 
mountain, my guide pointed out a large 
moose, with huge palmated horns. He was 
feeding peacefully in the distance, occasionally 
looking around as though always on the alert 
for foes. One horn was still in the velvet, 
and on the other the velvet was dangling 
down just ready to drop off, with the red 
corpuscles on the antlers glittering in the 
rain. 

By and by the clouds began to form on 
the mountain- tops, and gradually lowered 
until they enveloped the entire mountains 
and valleys. Again the rain commenced, and 
continued a steady downpour for the re- 
mainder of the day. The fates were against 
us in respect to the weather, but we did not 
have to go hungry, for the marmots were 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 163 

plentiful, whistling here and there, as though 
a kind Providence had provided a good supper 
for the camp. After walking all day in a 
cold, drizzling rain that was almost sleet, 
we overtook our packers, who had been trav- 
eling since morning in order to reach a 
camping place where there were both wood 
and water. We finally reached the foothills, 
where we found water and scrub spruce 
in abundance. One of the guides, while 
"rustling" sticks for fire, ran onto a large 
porcupine, and between marmot soup and 
porcupine roast we had an abundance to 
satisfy the inner man. 

After the Indians had eaten their fill, — and 
the amount they could eat was surprising, — ^the 
one that got the brisket had picked it clean 
and started to twirl it in the air, uttering some 
chanting words each time he tossed it, until 
it fell with the narrow side up, then he turned 
to his companions laughing and shaking his 
head. Then another went through the same 
motions. I subsequently learned that if the 
narrow side turned up frequently this indi- 
cated they would have another "porky" 
on the morrow. Porcupine they prefer to 
any other kind of meat. The intestines seem 
to be considered the choice morsels. Our 
guide would take hold of the intestine with 



i64 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

one hand and with the other would strip it 
of its contents in the various stages of diges- 
tion. Then to each man would be allotted 
his pro rata share, — and each was careful 
to see that he got his full portion of the deli- 
cacy. Next they would string the sections 
on sticks and gather round the fire on their 
"hunkers," singeing the tidbits more or less, 
each according to his taste. Upon our in- 
quiring why they did not wash the dainties, 
they explained that washing spoiled the 
flavor. There was a great deal of himior 
about them and they frequently tried to play 
simple jokes on each other. Occasionally 
one would reach for the field-glasses, look 
long and earnestly, then point in the di- 
rection of the mountain to some rocks and 
shout "Mushee"' (meaning "Sheep"), and 
when another member of the party would 
hurriedly reach for the glasses and shout 
"No mushee, " all would have a laugh at his 
expense. They are great tea drinkers and 
when in camp the teapot is always on the 
fire getting hot for the next cup. If for any 
reason they were compelled to do without 
it, they would sulk until they got it. 

It rained all night and we did not rest 

' The term for mountain sheep in the language of the British 
Columbian Indians is "Scoulaps." 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 165 

well, although very tired after our trip over 
long stretches of mountain-side covered with 
loose stones of all sizes and forms thrown 
down by the elements from the mountain- 
top. The bed was hard; the tent was pitched 
under a scrub hemlock to get protection 
from the strong wind that was blowing down 
the pass. The wind moaned and groaned 
all the fore part of the night, then subsided, 
but the rain continued till morning. The 
Nimrods huddled together in a small de- 
pression on the ground, with no bed but the 
rubber blankets and very scanty covering. 
Our hip bones would get sore, and one 
would turn and then the other, continually. 
We were glad to see the dawn of another 
day. All night long, "drip, drip, drip" in 
different parts of the tent the rain could be 
heard. The hunting shoe of my companion, 
standing upright under one of the largest 
leaks, proved an opportune receptacle, con- 
sequently in the morning his shoe was about 
half full of rain water. After a breakfast 
of porcupine stewed with a spoonful of 
evaporated potatoes and washed down with 
a cup of tea, we folded our tent and plodded 
our weary way towards camp. Blueberries 
and salmon-berries were very plentiful. We 
found at the higher elevations an abundance 



i66 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

of a species of blueberry, the woody plants 
of which grew less than three inches in height. 
They were laden with a small berry, very 
sweet to the taste, and so plentiful that they 
could be stripped off by the handful. Among 
them grew another species as heavily laden 
with red fruit, which I think was a species 
of partridge-berry. The two grew about the 
same height. The Indians preferred the red 
berries and seemed fond of them. As for 
myself, I was not partial to them, but ate 
liberally of the blue. 

Among the berries we came upon a covey 
of ptarmigan feeding. Doc, murderously in- 
clined, fired some ten shots at one of them 
before it flew. Indeed, so recklessly did he 
scatter his leaden pellets as the birds rose, 
that old Shanghai, one of otu- Indians, called 
to me: "Hey, Billy, Billy! Come on! Damn! 
Him make bullets whiz by head ! ' ' 

As we reached lower levels, the blueberries 
gave way to salmon-berries. They resemble 
raspberries in growth and appearance, but 
have a peculiar tart flavor. They were in 
great abundance, and were much relished by 
our party. 

We arrived at camp in due time, tired and 
hungry, but none the worse for our experi- 
ence, and after a short rest, quite ready for 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 167 

another tramp through the enchanting forest 
of birch, cottonwood, and hemlock. 




Ptarmigan 



On our way through the woods the Indians 
gathered for snuff-making a great many 
fungi growing on the birch trees. In pre- 
paring the snuff, they first take a birch limb 
of sufficient size and with a pocket-knife cut 



i68 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

out a round hole about two inches in diameter 
and an inch and a half deep ; this is the mortar. 
The fungi are then placed in the hot coals 
of a birch-wood fire until they are charred 
through and through, when they are broken 
into the mortar with a like amount of tobacco 
leaves. Then with another piece of birch 
wood about three feet long for a pestle the 
mixture is ground in the mortar until it be- 
comes of the color and consistency of a moist 
snuff. This the Indians continually chew and 
rub in their teeth. Of the many uses of the 
noble birch surely this is the most unique. 

From the seedling to the giant tree the 
life history of the birch is one of usefulness 
to the inhabitants of the wild. The hard- 
wood ridge over yonder looks like the woods 
in the vicinity of a beaver community, only 
over a much larger area. Acres and acres of 
birch trees averaging two inches in diameter 
are broken off a couple of feet from the ground 
by the giant moose, which straddle a sapling 
and bend it down to browse upon the boughs 
and tender twigs of the top. An old-timer 
in the country told us that once after a hard 
winter he came upon several "moose yards" 
in the spring and found many bodies of moose 
that had starved to death. He also told us 
that he had saved the lives of quite a number 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 169 

by cutting down trees where they could feed 
and thus tide themselves over a severe spell 
of bad weather. The birch-buds nourish 
the grouse during the winter. Birch-bark 
starts the fire and birch-wood furnishes the 
fuel. Birch-bark supplies the natives raw 
material from which to manufacture canoes 
and various utensils and trinkets. Taking 
it all in all I do not know of any other tree 
of the forest that is put to so many uses. 
An interesting instance of its application to 
the culinary art comes to mind. According 
to a tradition in our family, some of whom 
were pioneers in the Huron district of Canada, 
the Indians taught them to make a very fair 
substitute for baking powder out of a com- 
pound of the ashes of birch and hickory wood. 
I am sorry I never learned the formula. 

Around the camp fire we gathered just 
before retiring. The night was dark. The 
doleful cry of the solitary great northern 
diver {Urinator imperator) came through the 
stillness of the invigorating atmosphere, and 
scarcely would the echo die away in the 
distant hills until the call was repeated. 
The bird ma}^ have been floating on the 
surface of the lake, or flying in the air, calling, 
as it frequently does while in flight. The 
native Indians, like the sailors, do not take 



I/O BisT Game on Kenai Peninsula 



'& 



kindly to the laughing of the loon, for there 
is a superstition among them that it forebodes 
bad weather or some misfortune. The camp- 
fire was burning brightly, cutting a luminous 
hemisphere out of the inky darkness. In 
the north the aurora borealis was throwing 
its weird light in streamers stretched in a 
semicircle over the horizon. While I was 
admiring these the moon pushing up over 
the black hilltop across the lake, looked 
cherry-red. It seemed as though I was 
under a spell. In my fancy I could see 
a great boat approaching over the dark 
water, with a huge search-light just rotating 
into view and sweeping the northern heavens 
with its rays. But even as I gazed the full 
moon appeared in all its northern splendor, 
the vision dissolved, and I realized that the 
northern lights and Old Luna had played 
a prank on me. 

The next day we packed our belongings 
and shifted camp some four miles farther 
south on the same lake. As soon as the bow 
of our little boat struck the shore we hopped 
out and began a reconnoiter for a camp site. 
A well-worn path across the narrow neck of 
land separating one little fiord from another 
attracted our attention. A stroll in that 
direction disclosed a camp which had lately 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 171 

been occupied by some unknown party. On 
a tree we found the card of our fellow towns- 
man, George Shiras, III., who had recently left 
the camp for the sheep country. It was like 
receiving a letter from home. How pleasant 
the surprise had we been so fortunate as 
to meet him! The "few days in camp to- 
gether," suggested by his invitation of long 
standing, would have been realized by a 
strange coincidence. While he left civiliza- 
tion from Seward, we departed by way of 
Kenai, several hundred miles distant, yet 
both arrived at the same place, he by way 
of the upper Kenai and we by the lower. 

A hurried pitching of camp in anticipation 
of rain, which had been incessant for the 
past four days, with only brief intervals of 
relief from the downpour, put us in excellent 
shape, with plenty of spruce boughs for 
bedding, before the rain began to patter, 
patter on the stretched canvas. To me a 
most interesting experience is that of being 
lulled into dreamland under such conditions. 
It may be due to the effect of the ozone and 
to the fact that in the woods one is always 
tired when night comes. 

On the following morning we divided the 
parties and left camp in different directions. 
After tramping many miles alone I came to 



172 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

a swamp country. Crossing over one arm 
of the swamp, wading up to my knees in 
water, I came upon a path worn almost a 
foot deep by moose traveling from one place 
to another. I was unable to figure out why 
they traveled backward and forward along 
this particular route. After returning home 
I learned from Mr. Shiras that not far from 
this point was a salt lick and the path was 
the regular route to and from the lick. 

The path led through a little depression 
in a ridge that projected into the swamp. 
Mounting an elevation in the center of the 
ridge, I could see on every side little lakes 
and ponds, surrounded with alders and acres 
of yellow swamp grass, an ideal home for 
moose. Taking my field-glass, I looked in 
every direction for game, and finall}^ my eye 
rested on a yellowish-brown object, then 
another and another, which proved to be 
cow moose feeding among the birches. While 
resting, there came to my ears from another 
direction the snapping of bushes. I knew 
it was a moose feeding, a cow, to be sure. 
I at once started in the direction whence 
the sound came, and happened upon three 
cows feeding and resting. They did not 
seem to be wild, for on seeing me they threw 
their ears back and hair forward, just like 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 173 

mules, then walked off a short distance and 
stopped. In fact, they appeared to be very 
tame and evidently knew that the law pro- 
tected their sex. While looking in the finder 
of my camera I noticed that their curiosity 
seemed to be aroused and that they were ad- 
vancing towards me a little too closely for 
safety. I hurriedly set down my kodak and 
raised my gun for fear the foremost would take 
a notion to charge. Just at this moment she 
wheeled straight around and with a trotting 
motion, took to the closest cover. Before I re- 
turned to camp my intention had been to come 
back the next day, but I found the entire 
party had decided to turn homeward the next 
morning. What an opportunity I missed 
to get some photographs of big bull moose! 
The party saw at least ten cow moose that 
day. Without a doubt, when the rutting 
season arrived in about ten days, the large 
bulls, now in the high timber, would be 
scouring the forests in search of their 
mates, bellowing in answer to the call of 
their lady-loves. 

As soon as he reached the camp that evening 
Cheechalker began to inquire about his bath, 
and his equilibrium was greatly disturbed 
when the Indians refused to erect a tepee 
for a sweat box and give him a bath. The 



1/4 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

guide, pointing to the crystal water of the 
lake, said, "Him good water, make good 
wash." Now Cheechalker took as kindly 
to the crystal water as fish take to the land. 
Finally the party went for a bath, each per- 




A Bath in Lake Skilak 



forming his ablution in installments, and 
while they were sunning themselves, Old 
Sourdough took a header into the lake as an 
example that they might follow. This was 
too strenuous for the balance of the party 
and they were satisfied to look on. 

Doc took a stroll along the beach with his 
shotgun and returned with a brace of snipe. 
The white crescent over the eye was very 



Bi^ Game on Kenai Peninsula 175 



conspicuous between the black bill and slaty- 
black feathers of the crown. 

Pulling stakes after our breakfast was over 
next morning, we were soon on our way home- 
ward. We were just one day going down 
the river. The current was very swift and 
save for a few stops we made excellent time. 
At two of the worst rapids we all got out 
and the Indians ran the rapids. Before we 
pulled into Kenai we were told the Bydarky 
had left for Seldovia and would not make 
another trip for three days, which, if true, 
would be too late for us to catch the last boat 
of the season from Seldovia to Seattle. After 
arriving at Kenai we had about completed 
arrangements for a little schooner to take us 
up the inlet to Sunrise, on Turnagain Bay, 
where we expected to get a train for Seward, 
in time for the steamer, when, much to 
our pleasant surprise, the belated Bydarky 
came into port on her way to Seldovia. 
We had been misinformed. We quickly 
transferred our outfit, much relieved that 
we would not have to miss the last boat of 
the season. 

At two o'clock in the afternoon the boat 
left Kenai under full steam for the westward. 
The waters of the inlet were as smooth as 
glass and we were making good headway. 



176 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

Not even a gentle breeze was blowing as 
the sun disappeared behind the snow-covered 
peaks of Iliamna and Redoubt. The afterglow, 
reflected from the snowy cap, and the steam 
bursting from the side of old Redoubt gave 
it a weird appearance. 

All the passengers had retired except Doc 
and myself, who had been left without a 
bunk. We first thought we would throw 
our blankets on the floor of the combination 
cabin, kitchen, and dining-room. A strong 
breeze began to blow and we decided to go 
into the hold for the night, coil ourselves up 
in our duffel, and go to sleep. The wind 
increased to a hurricane. What a night we 
spent down in the hold of that old tub ! She 
was carrying little freight, had no ballast, 
and could make no time. The tide caught us, 
and between the outgoing and the incoming 
tide-rifts the boat was tossed about at the 
mercy of the elements. When she pitched 
forward the propeller was out of the water 
and spun like a button on a barn door. The 
engine throbbed and beat, stopped and 
started, with jerks and bounds, and the 
climax came when it broke. 

We were in the most treacherous water of 
the Pacific, rolling and tumbling in the trough 
and on the ridge of the high seas. The boat 



Bif^ Game on Kenai Peninsula 177 



was drifting out of the charted course and 
toward a coast bristHng with unknown rocks, 
upon which we were sure of being lost. The 
instant the engine broke, the engineer came 
down the hatchway like a meteor. The boat 
made a plunge and he landed in a heap on 
top of the doctor, who was so sick that in his 
misery he did not care whether the craft 
went down or floated. Righting himself, the 
engineer made a dash for the engine-room to 
repair the damage. In the storm the poop 
deck went to windward over the stern. The 
repair-men were at work; above the din of 
the hammer and chisel could be heard the 
cargo shifting from side to side with the bil- 
lows. Oh! how I longed to hear again the 
vibrating of the engine and smell the stench 
of the fuel oil, which before the storm had 
made our condition almost unbearable. The 
doctor lying on the broad of his back 
lifted his head and stared through the now 
open poop deck and asked, "Where are 
those sparks coming from.'^" I looked up 
and thought the stack was belching sparks 
from its fiery bowels. A second look, how- 
ever, sufficed to show that what seemed 
to be sparks were the stars as they passed 
back and forth over the hatch with the 
rocking of the boat. The illusion was much 



178 Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

more realistic than the narration of it would 
indicate. 

I mustered up enough courage to crawl 
to the ladder, climbed up, looked out, — and 
what a night! The stars seemed large and 
brilliant enough for planets, the moon almost 
large and bright enough for the sun. How 
it danced on the foamy crests of the tide- 
rifts when the whitecaps broke, throwing 
the silvery spray all around the heaving, 
plunging, tossing boat. Iliamna and Redoubt 
stood in their majesty, silent onlookers at 
the battle that was waging between the 
little boat and the powerful elements, — -won- 
dering who was going to be the victor. I 
dropped back into the hold half believing 
it was all a dream, when I heard the captain 
shouting to the pilot, "Keep her head on, 
head on ! " For fear of drifting upon the rocks 
they were obliged to run many miles out to 
sea before they dared make the turn for the 
harbor. I heard him shout to the man at 
the wheel, "Head her into the harbor as 
quickly as possible when she is in the next 
trough!" We had now reached the critical 
moment, — would they select the right time to 
make the turn? When the boat was turned 
halfway to leeward and on the crest, the 
turbine without resistance spun around at a 



Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 179 

fearful rate, then the engine stopped for a 
moment and the breakers struck the side 
a terrific blow, causing the hull to creak and 
groan as though it were human and about 
ready to collapse. The water in the cabin 
overhead swished back and forth and the 
pots and kettles, as they beat against the 
walls, kept time with the rolling and plunging 
of the boat. The old tub righted herself, 
we had crossed the danger line, and were 
heading straight for the harbor. 

When we reached quiet water the old- 
timers shook their heads and vowed that 
was their last trip in the Bydarky. What 
happened in the bunks no one would tell, 
though at least one of the party said that 
during the night he had offered many a silent 
prayer for the safety of the craft. There 
was a foot of water on the cabin floor, the 
pots and pans were drifting about amid a 
flotsam and jetsam of pork and beans, 
vegetables, and what not. 

Thus we reached Seldovia and learned 
that the steamer Portland was about due 
on her last trip for the season. Coming 
home by way of the inside passage, we had a 
pleasant trip, full of interest in a hundred 
ways. On one occasion, while many miles 
from land, a curious little bird came fluttering 



i8o Big Game on Kenai Peninsula 

from mast to mast. Evidently on its way 
south it had become exhausted in the long 
flight from some northern point and had 
taken a short cut across the water. Finally 
one of the passengers caught the little fellow 
and it proved to be a crossbill. The mandi- 
bles of this species are considerably crossed 
to assist in picking seeds from the pine cones 
of the northern land. It stayed with us all 
day and seemed to be perfectly contented 
and satisfied to be caressed in the open hand, 
but just as soon as the boat neared land it 
took to wing and with a graceful flight reached 
the timber safely. So the days passed until 
in due time we arrived at Seattle, where we 
took the train for the East, 



CHAPTER IV 

A TRIP TO NEWFOUNDLAND 

IN the spring I had made all preparations 
* for a trip to Newfoundland, and arrived 
at North Sidney to take the steamer Bruce 
for Port aux Basques. Walking into the 
offices of the company upon the dock to 
make arrangements for my passage, my 
attention was attracted to a little group of 
men. I learned that the Government doctor 
was vaccinating every passenger before allow- 
ing him to enter Newfoundland, because at 
this time Sidney had an epidemic of smallpox. 
One of the officers shouted to me: "Here you, 
going over? Bare your arm." I answered, 
"Not for me," knowing it would be useless 
to go into the woods with a punctured arm. 
Just a little while before the boat cleared 
I slipped aboard, heard the officer shout 
"Cast away!" and we were off for Port aux 
Basques. 

The sea was rough and in the morning all 

i8t 



1 82 A Trip to Newfoundland 

the "landlubbers" were "pale behind the 
gills." On landing, every person called upon 
the customs officer to have his baggage cleared, 
and I was required to leave a deposit of fifty 
dollars for the return of my Auto Graflex 
camera. The train was scheduled to start 
in a few minutes, and all the passengers were 
aboard waiting for more than an hour, wonder- 
ing what was delaying the start. Inquiry 
developed the fact that the trainmen were 
waiting for the wind to subside before they 
would venture across the viaduct over a 
swamp a few miles out. It seems that the 
train had been blown off the track several 
times by a strong wind. We finally crossed 
in safety. 

' Among the passengers were several fishing 
parties, and they were bubbling over with 
good fellowship in anticipation of the excellent 
sport they were going to have in pursuit of 
their favorite pastime. I believe every person 
should have a hobby of some kind to divert 
his mind from his burdens and petty cares. 
A chance to do something that we like fills 
us with pleasant thoughts, both in anticipa- 
tion and realization. Several of the fishermen 
returned on the same train with me; they 
looked much better and were quite talkative 
about "whipping the stream," their "wonder- 



A Trip to Newfoundland 183 

ful casts, " and the "big fellows" they did n't 
get. Their hearty appearance confirmed my 
theory. 

Passing through the country, as far as the 
eye could reach we looked out over barrens 
covered with moss. Here and there a small 
body of blue water, like a jewel, broke the 
monotony. Perhaps a solitary duck floated 
peacefully on its glossy surface, waiting for 
the little brood soon to appear. Away over 
yonder on the opposite shore of one of the 
lakes stood a sentinel, the sandhill crane 
{Griis mexicana), knee-deep in the water, 
sedate and motionless, waiting an opportunity 
to catch some unsiispecting fish that might 
fortunately pass his way. The countless 
herds of caribou had returned to the north 
and were scattered all through the woodland 
hills, attending to their domestic duties. 
Towards evening the fishing parties began 
to drop off, one b}^ one, at Middle Brook, 
Fischel's Brook, and Harr3^'s River, all 
ideal streams for salmon and trout. Thev 
seemed scarcely able to restrain themselves 
until the morrow, when they could joint 
their rods, wade the crystal water, and cast 
the Jock Scott or Silver Doctor into the 
riffles again and again in anticipation of a 
strike. 



1 84 A Trip to Newfoundland 

Arriving at Bay of Islands in due time, 
we found it a very interesting place, sloping 
gently up from the water's edge, with here 
and there a two-story frame house on its 
few acres of clearing. The inhabitants live 
almost wholly by fishing. Each had his own 
salmon net stretched out at some little pro- 
jection of rocks in the bay, for the salmon 
were just beginning to run. 

A guide employed, we made a trip up a 
long valley by the old "Twitchen" road, used 
years ago and grown up with alder, fir, and 
balsam so as to be almost closed; up the old 
caribou path, worn at some places three feet 
deep in the moss and soft black mire by 
countless herds of caribou that had passed 
beyond. To one looking backward before 
crossing over the divide, as far as the eye 
could see extended the blue waters of the bay, 
with the snow-capped mountains in the dis- 
tance, and in the foreground the park-like 
lowlands where the stately caribou roamed 
at will. 

Our objective point was a small lake nestled 
somewhere in the direction we were going, 
among the pine, birch, and spruce, but on 
the way we missed the location and got lost 
in the undertaking. My guide climbed a 
tree in order to get a peep of the lake, but 




a 






ID 

00 



1 86 A Trip to Newfoundland 

without success. While wandering about we 
heard from afar the doleful "who, who, hum, 
hee" of the loon. We had considerable 
difficulty determining the direction of the 




Constructing a Raft 



sound, but finally made a bee line for the 
lake. No sooner had we put in an appearance 
than from a small grassy island in the middle 
of the lake a dozen or more herring-gulls 
(Larus argentatus smiths onianus) rose into 
the air, uttering their distressed, plaintive 
cries as they soared round and round. After 
getting a cup of tea and a bite to eat, we cut 



A Trip to Newfoundland 187 

down four or five old tree stubs, bone dry from 
years and years of exposure to the elements. 
Lashing them together with redwood twisted 
into a "gad" and propelling the impromptu 
raft with a pole, we landed safely on the 




One Took to the Woods 



island. Our appearance startled from their 
island home three little birds, whose whitish 
down was covered with irregular dusky spots. 
In their excitement one took to the woods, 
and when requested to pose for its picture 
displayed all the resentment and fierceness 
charged to the American herring-gulls. The 
others took to the water. I am almost sure 



i88 A Trip to Newfoundland 

this was their first experience in the water, 
and how the Httle flesh-covered palmated 
feet churned it in their desperate efforts to 
lend the enchantment of distance to the view 
of their unwelcome visitors. The colony- 




One of the Others 



had almost deserted its annual nesting-ground, 
but here and there a tardy mother bird had 
not completed incubation, and the little 
chicks were about due and calling to be 
released from their prison. At the point of 
the island, just at the water-line, we found 
a loon's nest {Urinator imber). Its two big 
olive-brown eggs (size 3.50" X 2.25"), marked 
with dark brown spots, were lying on the 



A Trip to Newfoundland 189 

bare, wet ground, with a few rootlets scattered 
here and there. The old pair floated grace- 
fully on the surface of the water some three 
hundred yards in the distance, without utter- 
ing a sound. What a contrast between the 
gull and the loon in this respect, — the gulls 
soaring in the air above us with great excite- 
ment and noise, the loons quiet and apparently 
resting peacefully in the blue distance! The 
water in the lake was higher than usual. 
A family of beaver {Castor canadensis Kuhl) 
had dammed the entrance and had taken 
possession by building their home close at 
hand. Occasionally from the fortifications 
came across the lake a report almost as loud 
as a gun, the smack of the beaver's flat tail 
on the water as he disappeared when alarmed 
by the intruders. 

After taking several photographs we boarded 
our raft, crossed over to mainland, and returned 
homeward in the dead stillness of the evening. 
Softly we make our way through the forest, 
our feet sinking deep into the moss, turning 
over with our toes the evergreen oval-shaped 
leaves of the trailing arbutus {Epigcsa repens), 
exposing to the light of day the beautiful 
delicate flower that loves sylvan seclusion. 
Again and again I plucked a cluster which 
filled the air with a fragrant perfume that 



190 A Trip to Newfoundland 

mingled with the odor of the pine; then I 
thought of the lines, 

" Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 




Trailing Arbutus 



On the following day we took the train 
for the head of Deer Lake, some thirty miles 
away. After leaving the train we pulled 
our boat across the lake and pitched our tent 
on an island at the mouth of the Upper 
Humber River. The day was beautiful, and 
the sun hot enough that the eggs of the 
mosquito, deposited at dawn, were wigglers 
by noon. All day long the black flies made 



A Trip to Newfoundland 191 

our lives miserable, and as night approached 
the "nippers" took their place. Our tent 
was brand-new and erected with the most 
painstaking care, but we were unable to keep 
them out. We made ourselves busy before 
retiring for the evening by killing everything 
in sight, black flies, mosquitoes, and spiders, 
and then we tucked ourselves away on the 
balsam fir bed for a night's rest. But no 
sooner were we fixed nicely than the music 
began, and they seemed to come from every 
direction, so the fight was renewed again and 
again until we had exhausted ourselves and 
our "dope," and fell asleep from sheer weari- 
ness. Their favorite point of attack seemed 
to be behind the ears, and the singing still 
continued, adding considerably to the tor- 
ment. In the morning our brand-new tent 
looked like a slaughter house, all blotched 
over with red, each mark indicating the 
death of one of the vicious little pests. 

The weather turned cold, — and how glad 
we were to find relief! After breakfast we 
started out in search of anything of interest, 
and while walking down the beach we noticed 
many little fine tracks on the sand; three toes 
in front cleft to the base indicated immediately 
that the maker belonged to the order of 
waders (Limicolce), and was about the size 



192 A Trip to Newfoundland 

of the little spotted sandpiper {Actitis macu- 
laria), which builds its nest just along the 
edge of sparsely-clustered bushes. Taking 




spotted Sandpiper's Nest 



the trail, we followed, scanning carefully 
every likely place, and when we were within 
a few feet of her the little hen bird left in 
great excitement, twittering and flapping 
her wings as she fluttered along the ground, 
evidently trying to feign a crippled condition 
to draw our attention from the nest. This 



A Trip to Newfoundland 193 

was built on the sand; just a very shallow 
hole and a few small sticks and pieces of 
bark; the four little cream-colored eggs with 
their liver-colored spots rested in the center 
of the nest, with a bunch of green leaves for 
the background. 

Going a little farther down the beach we 
found the footprints of another bird on 
the sands. The trail was scarcely deeper, 
but quite different. At first sight we recog- 
nized the track as made by a member of the 
order of swimmers (Lamellirostres) , for the 
full palmated feet left their plain imprint, 
with the three toes pressed a little deeper 
in the sand than was the web, and with the 
lobate toe leaving its delicate touch. We 
followed the trail to a large white birch which 
was partly undermined by the spring freshet, 
leaving its mass of roots hanging down to 
the sand. Getting down on my knees and 
looking closely I saw a few feathers, and by 
a long and careful straining of the eye could 
make out the mother bird on the nest. She 
was so well concealed it was absolutely im- 
possible to get a photograph of her in occu- 
pation of the nest, so we proceeded to pull 
some of the roots away and even touched 
her in doing so; still she did not move from 
her position; but before we got the picture 
13 



194 A Trip to Newfoundland 

she left the nest with a "quack, quack," 
her neck extended and wings beating the 
sand. The nest belonged to a family of 
red-breasted mergansers (Merganser serrator), 
and contained seven plain cream-colored eggs 




Merganser's Nest 

(size 2.50^' X i.yo'O; it was built of a few 
small sticks and lined with down from the 
breast of the duck. We visited the nest 
several times afterwards, but believe it was 
abandoned. At the upper end of the island 
we pitched our tent, possibly half a mile from 
the nest, intending to make a midnight visit 
for the purpose of getting a flashlight picture 
if possible. Before evening the birds could 



A Trip to Newfoundland 195 

be seen a long way off taking in the situation 
from the distance, but as the evening ap- 
proached they drew nearer and nearer and 
then darkness enshrouded the landscape. 




Nest of Wilson's Thrush 

Although we could not see their flight over 
our tent, we could frequently hear the whirr 
of their wings long into the night as they 
passed up and down, frightened and unable 
to settle peacefully under the roots of the 
old birch. The instinct for the protection 
of her young is very strongly developed in 
the merganser, and she will resort to every 



196 A Trip to Newfoundland 

possible ruse to conceal them, coaxing them 
into good cover, and, when once they are 
concealed, leading you away in another 
direction. 

In the early dawn, when the dew was 
glistening on the vegetation and wild life 
was full of activity, from underfoot glided 
a Wilson's thrush {Hylocichla fuscescens). 
As I looked carefully in the direction whence 
it came, a small opening in a clump of sticks 
and grass disclosed a beautifully-constructed 
nest of moss lined with rootlets and coarser 
grass, embedded in a small hillock. In the 
nest were three delicate greenish-blue eggs 
(0.90'' X 0.65^0- We spent a great deal of 
time making the acquaintance of the mother 
bird, while the old man perched on a distant 
limb, and at our approach seemed to give 
warning by calling "chip, chip," so that, no 
matter how stealthily we drew near, the female 
was aware of our approach and had left the 
nest before we were in sight. That she had 
only just gone was apparent from the warmth 
of the eggs. We visited the nest many times 
until finally she became very tame. 

What a contrast to the nervous, excited tit- 
lark which had built its nest on the ground 
near a stimip ! The more we visited the nest 
of the latter the wilder she became, and after 



A Trip to Newfoundland 197 

many attempts to photograph her we had 
to give up in despair. By the time evening 
came we were quite well acquainted, and 
when night set in we tried to take a flash- 
light picture of the thrush, using an electric 
lamp to attract attention until the flash went 
off. The instant of the flash she would glide 
gently out of the nest, to return again in a few 
minutes after we left. We made the attempt 
many times, and finally she became so accus- 
tomed to it that she would not leave the nest 
when the flash went off. 

The following day we heard a whistling 
noise overhead, — a female American golden- 
eye {Glaucionetta clangida americana) was 
in full flight, disturbing the air with her 
laboring short wings. Away over yonder 
in a burned clearing stood an old birch tree 
stump, gaunt and white with the constant 
beating of the weather against it. Some 
thirty feet from the ground was a large hole 
in the stump, and as the duck passed by we 
noticed that she hesitated as though about 
to enter, but at the same instant she must 
have seen us, for she continued her vigorous 
flight up the river as far as we could see. We 
decided she had her nest in the old tree top, 
and by concealing ourselves, gave her to 
believe we had gone. In a short time we 



198 A Trip to Newfoundland 

saw the duck return and pitch into the hole. 
Wlien she was once in her protected home 
it was impossible to get her out. We hammer- 
ed the tree with stones and logs and threw 
many stones into the opening; in fact, we did 
everything we could to make her come out, 
but to no avail. We then cut two long trees 
and leaned them against the top of the stump, 
and my guide proceeded to make rungs by 
binding rope around them until he had a 
fairly good ladder to the top. Then he 
climbed up and looked into the hole, but 
could not see the duck; she had built her 
nest in the hollow branch and not in the 
main trunk. The old stump began to sway 
from a breeze that sprang up, so the guide 
became nervous and hastened down for fear 
it would fall. Taking his ax he decided to 
cut the tree down, but when he was half 
way tlirough I persuaded him that the mother 
and young would be killed by the fall, and 
at my suggestion he let the old stump stand. 
Several days later the young were trans- 
ported to the water by the old ducks, and 
about the time the last duckling was placed on 
the water, we arrived on the scene. ' It was 

' Some authorities say that the mother duck carries the young 
to the water in her bill. Whether this or some other means is 
adopted, seems to be as yet a mooted question. 



A Trip to Newfoundland 199 

very interesting to see them tr3dng to dive; 
they were only able to stick their heads 
tinder the water, exposing their white under 
tail-coverts. As our little boat advanced 




^ 




Learning to Swim 



quietly over the water, the mother bird, in 
her excited efforts to get them concealed, 
swam now this way, now that way, and made 
man}^ attempts at turning into an apparent 
shelter, only to come out again. After many 
such zigzag efforts she decided to take to 
the open water with her brood. In the 
meantime we were approaching nearer and 



200 A Trip to Newfoundland 

nearer and when we separated them the mother 
disappeared in the direction of the open lake 
and the ducklings were forced towards the 
sandy beach. Thus separated we were able 
to guide them up and down the shore ac- 




Out for Themselves 



cording to our liking, being careful to keep 
them along the sandy beach where they 
could not find any cover to conceal them- 
selves. We followed them for several hours. 
This little family had not received many 
lessons in the way of providing for itself, 
and when we cut the ducklings off from their 
mother, fear was uppermost in all their 



A Trip to Newfoundland 201 

actions. The instinct of fear gradually left 
them and in its place the instinct of hunger 
evidently gained the ascendancy. In the 
beginning they would swim and paddle over 
the water in great alarm, calling with a faint 




^4 



t 




H 



Learning to Walk 

''quack, quack," trying to dive and distance 
their pursuers. Occasionally they would 
walk a little on the shore and then take to 
the water again. We followed them up and 
down until they finally seemed to pay little 
attention to us, and how interesting it was 
to watch them diving in the water for bugs 
and minnows to satisfy their hunger! Several 



202 A Trip to Newfoundland 

times we saw them bring their prey, small 
minnows or mollusca, to the surface and 
swallow it. When we first met in the morning 
they could scarcely dive under the surface 




Reflections 



of the water. In the afternoon they would 
disappear for quite a while at a time, and as 
each in turn would appear and disappear 
they kept us guessing as to the duration and 
depth of their dives. Thus we left them. 

As we floated leisurely along, the trees 
skirting the edge of the forest cast upon the 
surface of the lake their long reflections of 



A Trip to Newfoundland 203 

green, mingled with the red, blue, and purple 
of the sun's rays. We heard the harsh notes 
of the kingfisher {Ceryle alcyon) as it skimmed 
gracefully over the water and, ascending 
with a quick movement, perched on an old 
dead limb. With the field-glasses could be 
distinctly seen her belted markings of white, 
her ashy blue and rufous color, and her 
elevated occipital crest. She remained for 
some time motionless, according to her char- 
acteristic habit, when like a flash, with a 
rapid movement of her long, pointed wings, 
she made a plunge, disappeared for an instant, 
and then with a small fish made a graceful 
flight to her sylvan retreat. Here she de- 
lights to build her nest in a perpendicular 
bank washed at the base by a swift current, 
a protection from intruders. Quietly the 
canoe entered the mouth of a little creek and 
at an abrupt bend there was almost a col- 
lision between the man in the boat and the 
kingfisher returning to its home. With a 
series of rattles, backing of pedals, and evo- 
lutions in the air, the frightened bird, natu- 
rally timid and of secluded habits, hastened 
away. 

The gnarled and picturesque old birch, 
with its smooth white-spotted bark twisting 
and curling in every direction, covered with 



204 A Trip to Newfoundland 

ages of moss and lichen, spread its drooping 
limbs gracefully over the water. Among 
the slender twigs, with their long-pointed, 
triangidar, saw-toothed leaves, were many 
redpolls {Acantliis linaria) feeding on the 
brown buds, clinging in all conceivable posi- 
tions, like boys picking cherries. 

The day was hot, and late in the afternoon 
a warmer stratum of air saturated with vapor 
was being driven up the mountain-side. We 
knew by the uniform gray tint that a nimbus 
cloud was forming and we could expect a 
heavy rain erelong. As we glided over the 
smooth water of the lake, looking anxiously 
for a good temporary camp site, large drops 
of rain, spreading a silvery spra}^ over the 
surface as they struck it, hastened our pro- 
gress. Heading our craft direct for shore, 
the oarsman plied the oars with full force, 
expecting to make a jump to beach as the 
bow neared shore, but just about the time 
he straightened up the boat struck a rock 
and away he went, head first, over the duffel 
and into the water. A hearty laugh, and we 
were tugging away at the boat, doing our 
utmost to get out the tent and save harmless 
our bed and board. Fortunately on the 
edge of the bank was a grassy spot large 
enough to spread a small wall tent. Having 



A Trip to Newfoundland 205 

our tent-poles with us, already cut, we 
formed a crotch by tying ropes around 
the ends. The center pole was thrown 
into the crotch, and while I steadied the 
frame Charley slashed four pins out of 
young saplings, the four corners of the 
tent were staked down, and in less time 
than it takes to write it we had a good 
shelter for the outfit. 

The rain was increasing while we rustled 
the outfit to cover. With the woods ap- 
petite we hastened the frying pan onto the 
fire as the resinous smoke curled in rings 
gracefully away from the tent, and by the 
time the pan was hot and the solid chunks 
were aglow, speckled beauties, fresh from 
the riffles, were curling and drawing, but 
the rain-drops, sizzling and sputtering, marred 
their symmetry by making them stick to 
the pan. In the meantime the forked pole 
was punched into the soft soil until it 
leaned at an angle above the fire, and the 
coffee-pot was soon boiling over, adding 
its sweet aroma to the already fragrant 
atmosphere. 

It was evident that the weather was clearing 
up. Looking toward the purple foothills 
the air was rapidly taking up the vapor and 
mist, and the sun peeped out from its con- 



2o6 A Trip to Newfoundland 

cealment, illuminating the lake with radiant 
splendor. We walked up the old lumber road, 
abandoned many years and almost covered 
with underbrush, to a deserted cabin, with 
its tumble-down roof and moss-grown sides. 




Radiant Splendor 

A small stream of pure, cold water gurgled 
as it disappeared under a decayed and broken 
corduroy bridge, — an ideal spot to cast for 
trout. A little beyond, the jack pines towered 
their heads high in the air, each vying with 
the other for supremacy over the light and 
sun. Close by stood a beautiful birch, which, 
after the manner of those who wear a band of 



A Trip to Newfoundland 207 

black crape around the arm in respect for the 
memory of some dear one, wore a band of 
crape encircling its very trunk, in token of 
its own premature death. The work of a 
novice or the spirit of destruction was plainly 
evident, for the living cambium had been 
destroyed and pulled off with the bark. The 
wilful destruction of trees casts a sadness 
over me when I think how easy it is in a few 
moments to destroy that which it has taken 
the wise Creator years to develop. No 
wonder the spirit of conservation is spreading 
over the country ! 

A short cut through the woods disclosed 
timber in every stage of decay, from the 
tall, statel}^ birch, frayed at the very top, 
like a bald-headed man, to the giant lying 
prostrate on the ground, uprooted by the 
wind years before and covered with moss 
and decaying leaves. As you step upon the 
moss, down you go to your knees into the 
rotten trunk, and it seems to say, "Dust 
thou art, to dust thou shalt return." 

When we arrived at camp several Canada 
jays (Perisoreus canadensis) were in evidence, 
examining every nook and comer and ex- 
ercising their well-known powerful instinct 
in this respect; in fact, their curiosity is so 
overpowering that they have no fear of man 



2o8 A Trip to Newfoundland 

and in a short time become vety tame. They 
are well-known camp robbers, and carry 




Whiskey Jack 

away everything that strikes their fancy. 
In this instance they were busy toting away 
into an old tree-top remnants of trout, both 
cooked and uncooked. 



A Trip to Newfoundland 209 



Towards evening, a dead stillness pervaded 
the air, broken occasionally by the "hoot, 
hoot" of an owl and the sharp smack of the 



'«.Ci 



W.«?l 




f » 



^Jf>S^ 



'A\ 







Nest and Eggs of the White-Throated Sparrow 

beaver's tail on the water as he was disturbed 
in his night prowlings. Through the stillness 
came to us the sweet notes of the white- 
throated sparrow (ZonotrtcJiia albicollis) roost- 
ing among the fragrant boughs of the balsam 
fir. His song may have been inspired by 
the changed and refreshing atmosphere, or 



14 



210 A Trip to Newfoundland 

perhaps he was inquiring about the welfare 
of his little mate as she brooded over her 
four wee brown-speckled eggs carefully laid 
in the small arched house on a cushion of 
moss lined with fine grass and rootlets. 

Arranging our bed of balsam boughs, we 
were just about read}^ to blow out the light, 
when my half-breed guide, who held the 
candle in his hand, suggested that he offer 
up a little prayer. I assented to his desire 
and he knelt on the boughs with the candle 
in his hand, while with face upturned he 
remained silent in this suppliant attitude 
for some time. The mellow light of the 
candle on his swarthy, upturned face, amidst 
the quiet solemnity of the night, was very 
impressive and turned my earnest thought 
to the higher things of life. It touched me 
very deeply. I thought if this simple child 
of the forest had so much to be thankful for, 
how much more we, a happy, prosperous 
people. 

Just as the half-risen sun kissed the tips of 
the mountains, we pushed our little craft 
from the shore. Gently the current caught 
the stern, and like a magnet drew the boat to- 
wards the head of the Lower Humber, — gently 
at first, but faster and faster as we neared the 
rapids. 



A Trip to Newfoundland 211 

The woodman with his ax had been at 
work. Floating silently with the current 
were two large tree-trunks felled by the ax 
of the lumberman. The one, with grayish- 
brown bark, is known as the white spruce 
{Picea canadensis), a tree until recently of 
no value, its foliage nast}^ smelling, its wood 
soft and brittle. When burned it cracks and 
throws off sparks that eat holes in the wearing 
apparel of the camper-out. The other, with 
its white resinous bark, was the canoe birch 
(Betula papyrifcra), which has given pleasure 
to man from time immemorial, and is used 
in so many ways by both Indian and white 
hunters. On the latter three white gulls, 
with their mantles of black, were standing 
with heads bowed, as though respectful 
mourners at the funeral of the noble birch 
that was moving faster and faster towards the 
rapids. About the time the log reached the 
brink of the boiling and seething waters 
the mourners left it to its fate. The 
current tossed and pitched it in every con- 
ceivable direction, and at last plunged it 
into the billows head-on, where it dis- 
appeared, and after being lost to sight for 
some time finally floated gracefully into 
an eddy not much the worse for wear and 
tear, turning around like an animate being. 



212 A Trip to Newfoundland 

while the little voices of the forest seemed 
to unite in praise of their hero. The old 
spruce with its soft substance appeared 
tattered and torn — "unwept, unhonored, and 
unsung" by any except the new man — the 
pulp manufacturer. 

At the head of the rapids we made a landing 
and walked through a beautiful strip of woods 
to select a camping-site. When we reached 
the foot of the rapids we found a place to 
our liking. I suggested to the half-breed 
that while he prepared a dwelling-place I 
would go and shoot the rapids with the boat. 
He positively refused to let me go, and in 
fact would not allow me to get in the boat 
for fear we should capsize, saying that several 
of those who had tried to run the river at 
this point had lost their lives. When I saw 
our little craft float the rapids like a duck 
and swing gracefully into the haven of safety, 
I naturally felt relieved. We pitched our 
tent on a grassy bank above the water where 
it surged back into an eddy, as though it was 
tired after its swift and tumultuous passage 
over the bowlders, and longed to tarry for 
a short time to enjoy the quiet and peaceful 
pool. We spent several days in this locality, 
roaming among the spruce and pines. Under 
the secluded spruce the bunchberries (Cornus 



A Trip to Newfoundland 213 

canadensis) love to grow and blossom. After 
the flowers fade, from the whorls come 
clusters of red berries that, mingling with the 
moss, work out fantastic patterns on the 
beautiful natural carpet. 




Bunchbeiries 

Into the pool were brought many insects, 
larvae, and frogs, which invited schools of 
speckled trout to enjoy the quiet waters 
where we took advantage of the natural 
haven for our little craft. 

Toward evening a colony of tree swallows 
(Tachycineta bicolor) invaded the surrounding 
valley, feeding on the numerous insects. As 
we watched their flight the under white 



214 A Trip to Newfoundland 

plumage looked like silver streaks. So 
rapid were their movements that the wings 
were scarcely perceptible, and when they 
skimmed the surface of the meadow and rose 
gracefully over the willows below us, the 
beautiful cerulean of their upper plumage 
so harmonized with the deep blue of a rainbow 
which spanned the heavens at that moment, 
that the air seemed to shimmer and sparkle 
with light and motion. 

The tiger swallow-tail butterflies {Papilio 
turnus) were very plentiful. The cook had 
thrown on the shore the heads and entrails 
of fish and by some unknown method the 
butterflies were able to ascertain its location. 
During the afternoon some twenty-four but- 
terflies actually collected around the refuse 
and with their antennas sensed the dainties — 
shall I say? — that seemed to appeal to their 
taste. When one approached too close, all 
would take wing and the air was filled with 
yellow fancies as they scattered in all direc- 
tions. They soon returned and seemed to 
bring their friends and neighbors with them, 
for at each flush they were more numerous 
than before. 

The Humber looked calm and peaceful in 
the big "steadv. " How serene and beautiful 
the mountain appeared in Nature's mirror! 



A Trip to Newfoundland 215 

How charmingly all the natural colors were 
reproduced in the reflection on the placid 
lake! Even the purple foothills displayed 
their beauty as they clung to the weeping 
willows along the shore-line. Here and there 




The " Steady " 

the water was broken occasionally by the 
jumping of the salmon and trout on the way 
to the spawning-waters. The little brook, 
now full, came tossing, plunging, and pitching 
with a great noise down the mountain, and 
at its mouth, gracefully idling away the time, 
were thousands of trout jumping and splashing 
in the spray, waiting to strike and dart away 



2i6 A Trip to Newfoundland 

with any larvas or bug that was caught by 
the onrush of the water. Under such con- 
ditions the angler could gather a rich harvest, 
for the trout takes the bait just as soon as it 
touches the water, and darts away, making 
the line "sizz" as it cuts through, breaking 
again and again until after a desperate struggle 
he gives up to the inevitable and is landed 
safely in the boat. Man is not the only 
creature familiar with this condition and the 
feeding habits of the fish. At the mouth 
of every stream the merganser loiters with 
her family to take toll; the kingfisher makes 
its morning call along the route; the loon, 
swimming gracefully around the projecting 
willows that quiver in the gentle current, 
disappears like a flash, and another is added 
to the tally ; the osprey soaring through the 
air takes a dive beneath the surface and 
brings up one of the finny tribe, then makes 
a true line to the top of the old dead tree- 
stump, where the young are waiting with 
stretched necks and open mouths to receive 
their allotment. 

While we anchored to an old snag that had 
drifted with the current into an eddy, there 
appeared from the depths the head of a musk- 
rat, moving gracefully around m a semi- 
circle and throwing off little wavelets that 



A Trip to Newfoundland 217 

broadened as they approached the shore. 
The cast of the fly frightened His Majesty, 
and with a "whack" of his tail on the water 
he disappeared, but erelong again came to 
the surface. What a contrast in the dis- 




Solitude 



position of the muskrat and its cousin, the 
beaver! The latter loves solitude and builds 
its lodge in the most inaccessible places that 
can be found in the fastness of the uninhabited 
mountains and along some stream where the 
foot of man seldom treads. The other colonizes 
near civilization in some old dam or water- 
way thrown up by man. Under the protection 



2i8 A Trip to Newfoundland 

of the law, beaver are becoming more plentiful, 
and occasionally at the mouths of little creeks 
can be seen limbs of birch and willow freshly 
peeled; if the winding course of the stream 
is followed, you are sure to come upon a 
dam, lately completed by a pair that have 
of their own accord left the old lodge to seek 
their fortune in a new home. The dam is 
usually constructed first and then the lodge 
a short distance above, and wonderful in the 
building of the dam and lodge is the skill of 
this little animal, known as the King of the 
Rodents. 

A little way below, the waters separated 
around an acreage of island that afforded 
protection for the homes of numerous gulls 
and fish ducks. The undergrowth was very 
dense out to the edge of the perpendicular 
wall rock. The mergansers constructed on 
the ledge their shallow nests encircled with 
a ring of down. When approached they 
sailed gracefully along a descending plain a 
hundred yards beyond, closed their wings, 
skimmed elegantly over the water several 
yards and then floated about, perfect pictures 
of grace, beauty, and ease combined. Seal 
Cove loomed up in the distance with its two 
sides of perpendicular reddish sandstone. The 
gently sloping water front was the breeding- 




> 

Pi 

u 

CD 
Xi 






a 
o 

xs 

0) 

a 



pq 






220 A Trip to Newfoundland 

ground for quite a few harbor seals. They 
are naturally gregarious, and as we approached 
them one by one they slid into the water. In 
a few seconds, noiselessly a shiny black object 
resembling the head of a dog would come in 
sight some distance away, and scarcely a 
ripple of the displaced water marked the spot 
where the seal emerged. Again and again 
it appeared and disappeared until a mere 
speck in the distance. Climbing the rocks 
we saw remnants of numerous white woolly 
suits discarded by the newly-born baby seals 
before they took to the water, where with 
their brand-new spotted sealskin coats they 
could be seen sporting and playing before 
the big bulging, affectionate eyes of the 
mother. Seals love to spend a great deal of 
their time resting, sleeping, and sunning 
themselves- on the rocks. Their hearing is 
not very acute and they can be approached 
easily by stalking. They are very tenacious 
of life and when shot must be killed instantly 
or they will slide into the water and dis- 
appear. My Indian guide shot a large bull 
around the region of the heart, and it would 
have reached the water although mortally 
wounded if the Indian had not caught hold 
of its flippers and pulled back with all his 
strength. All the time the bull was snapping 



A Trip to Newfoundland 221 

viciously at him just like a dog. The northern 
seal is much prized by the natives for its 
economic value, its flesh, fat, and skin being 
in great demand. Seal hunting in these 
waters has been a great industry for years. 
The Newfoundlanders are a hardy race, and 
when hunting seal on the ice floes must endure 
great privations. 

While at Bay of Islands an old sailer came 
into port with a young man aboard, penniless 
and very sick. He lived in the interior and 
the captain was trying to raise money to send 
him on the train to his home. The lad knew 
he was going to die and was anxious to reach 
home to make amends to his old father and 
mother for seeking, against their wishes, a 
life on the seas. Passengers contributed the 
money and sent word to the captain, but 
before the train arrived the poor boy died. 

The train pulled in, not in due time, but 
several hours late. The conductor shouted 
"All aboard!" and as it slowly left the bay 
my thoughts turned homeward. It is then I 
begin to feel anxious about the folks at home 
and wonder if all is well. 



CHAPTER V 

HUNTING WITH A FERRET 

T TAVTNG many times tried with indiffer- 
■'■ ■*■ ent success to photograph the rabbit 
in his native fields and woods, I cast about 
for a means of stalking him at close range, 
and had for some time cherished the idea 
of taking a hunt with my kodak in a good 
tracking snow. Thus intent, I jumped from 
a passenger coach one day in the late fall, 
equipped with an Eastman twelve-shooter 
and ammunition enough to make a big bag. 

I had left the station scarcely more than a 
couple of hundred yards behind along the 
public road, when I leaped a stake and rider 
fence, crossed a stubble field, bound for the 
bottom land. A field covered with tall, 
dry grass, right at the edge of a brier patch, 
looked a very likely place for cottontail. 
Just as I reached the little creek covered 
with ice, save where here and there the rip- 
pling water crossed the shallow, pebbly places, 

222 



Hunting with a Ferret 223 

I struck a fresh trail. Carefully examining 
the footprints in the snow, which had fallen 
early the preceding day, I reached the con- 
clusion, from the trodden condition of the 
ground and the little round brownish excre- 
ment lying here and there on the surface of 
the snow, that this was his playground and 
I must look elsewhere for the quarry. So 
I began a large circle around the brier patch 
to catch the trail to his bed. After passing 
several times around the thicket, I finally 
discovered the latest trail out. Bunny 
usually travels by long jumps from the time 
he makes up his mind to retire for the day. 
The trail followed what seemed the most 
cautious route — under an old fallen tree, 
then two long jumps and into an abandoned 
groundhog hole. I cut a pole with the inten- 
tion, if possible, of routing Bunny from his 
quarters. About the time the pole was half 
way in, out he popped from an unexpected 
direction like a flash, made a dash for a brush 
heap nearby, and disappeared even before 
I could get the camera into action. 

When a rabbit is once driven out of a hole, 
it seldom re-enters unless hard pressed by 
the dogs. I have trailed them in the snow 
for hours, reading the story from the foot- 
prints as they ran, now hopping along 



224 



Hunting with a Ferret 



leisurely, now doubling and following old 
tracks under, through, and over logs. In one 
instance Br'er Rabbit showed considerable 
ingenuity in making a long side jump to 
a board fence and squatting where the 



^'^"""^KK^Kj^/M ■ 






IHHHHHi 


';ffir*''''fPI 


..^mmtmW 


H^^ayjj 


_jT""— ^ 







Color Blending 

color of fence and rabbit was almost the 
same, by this simple ruse eluding his pursuers. 
Later I accidentally came upon some fel- 
lows who had put a ferret into a hole. In 
a short time he stuck his nose out, sniffing 
the air for the scent of the quarry, circling 
the open for the lost trail. When the owner 
made a slight movement towards him he 



Hunting with a Ferret 225 

instantly disappeared into the hole. For 
fully an hour the men tried in vain to catch 
him as he appeared alternately at either end 
of the tunnel. Grass had grown around the 
entrance, and the ferret was busy trying to 
carry enough into the hole to make a com- 
fortable bed and take up his abode there, un- 
ceremoniously abandoning the snug quarters 
in his master's pocket. Several times they 
almost succeeded in getting hold of him by 
taking a bunch of grass and poking it towards 
him. This he would grab, hold until his 
owner had pulled him out almost far enough 
to catch him, then let go, sniffing as he scurried 
back out of reach. Finally they were obliged 
to try a new scheme, and one of them was 
sent to a neighboring house for a piece of 
fresh meat. They tied a string to the meat 
and lowered it into the hole; whereupon the 
ferret instantly snatched it, and forgetting 
his late resolve, held on so tenaciously that the 
hunter soon had him back into the bag. 

On the second day out, the snow was fast 
disappearing from the open under the influence 
of a bright sunshine, though it was still quite 
deep in the woods and on the northerly slopes 
of the high hills. While looking for tracks I 
succeeded in gaining the confidence of another 
party of rabbit hunters who had a good dog 

IS 



226 



Hunting with a Ferret 



and a "long pole," as they called it, and 
directly I obtained an invitation to accompany 
them as they hunted for signs of the little 
cottontail. I accepted with some hesita- 
tion, determined to take a few observations 




Putting in the Ferret 

of the Operations of modern "game hogs." 
Soon we heard the short, sharp bark of the 
old hound, indicating that a start had been 
made; and about the same time a shout rent 
the air, "Here he goes!" as the little white 
tail dodged in and out from one cover to 
another, disappearing in the distance with 
the old hound in hot pursuit and baying at 



Hunting with a Ferret 227 

every jump. Presently, in the language of 
the coon-hunter, the dogs tongued "Treed," 
which in the dialect of the rabbit hunter is 
"Holed," and erelong the law breakers gath- 
ered around the hole at the root of the tree. 
I was hoping the tree was hollow and that the 
little rabbit who had made such a good long 
run for his life had climbed the tree and would 
be safe from the ferret, but my hopes soon 
vanished when I heard the rumbling noise, 
first faint in the depths, then coming nearer 
and nearer as he approached the opening. 
A hasty scramble by the man on his knees, 
a muffled "d — ■", a wish expressed that he 
had used his net, and the little rabbit was 
away again in a race for his life, minus a tail 
taken by the ferret and a patch of skin and 
hair taken from his back by the big fellow 
at the hole. Then follows a long chase during 
which the old dog overleaps a little bunch of 
gray as it squats in the grass. For, knowing 
that the enemy is fleet of foot and is 
likely to pass hurriedly by, overlooking in 
his haste the clod of color that blends 
with the dry grass, he crouches low and 
gains an opportunity to double on his 
tracks. His ruse misleads the pursuer for 
a short time at least and requires a halt 
in the chase, which gives the fugitive an 



228 Hunting with a Ferret 

opportunity to reach some oft-frequented 
harbor of refuge. 

Again he is tracked to his hiding-place, and 
again the Httle bloodthirsty creature is turned 
loose to drive him from cover. Bunny, 
always on the alert, makes a bolt for his life 
with the ferret at his back and the old hound 
waiting at the other end of the hole to crush 
his life out. He stops a moment at the en- 
trance as the dog makes a vicious snap at 
him, returns to meet his arch enemy, lets 
out a pitiful squeal, and meekly allows his 
life blood to be sucked without further resist- 
ance. His courage and dash are gone and he 
quietly submits to his cruel fate at the hands 
of the lawless "game hogs." After the 
entrance is dug out a long arm is extended 
into the hole and Bunny is slowly dragged 
forth with the ferret hanging on like grim 
death. 

Again the biggest "game hog" of the 
party could be heard shouting to the dogs, 
"Whoop her up, Dan," urging them on the 
trail of another innocent little rabbit that has 
a slim chance for life. 

While hunting for fresh signs we ran across 
a little cottontail hanging by his head, caught 
in a snare set by another type of hunters who 
bag their game by means of knife, twine, and 



Hunting with a Ferret 



229 



apple. A nibble at the apple, the trap is 
sprung, and the noose tightens around his 
neck, dangling little cottontail in the air 
just low enough for his hind feet to touch 
the ground, and slow strangulation continues 
until life is extinct. In the morning when 




His Last Nibble 

the trapper reaches his snare he finds the 
rabbit frozen stiff, with tongue protruding 
and eyes bulging from their sockets. Surely 
he is not without a pang of conscience as he 
gathers up his catch. 

I was startled out of my contemplation 
by the sound of the old dog giving tongue, 
and the bang of the musket echoing in the 
tree-tops. Listening, I could hear the dogs 
baying on the trail some distance from where 



230 



Hunting with a Ferret 



the shot was fired, — plainly a clean miss. 
In a short time the language of the hound 
again announced "Holed," and the gathering 
of the heartless around the spot told the 
same old story. At my suggestion, "Give 




In Hot Pursuit 



the rabbit a chance," the dog was removed 
from the hole, when out popped the rabbit. 
The dog in hot pursuit soon overtook him, 
but failed to pick him up. Twice the little 
fellow fooled the dog, but the third time his 
doom was sealed. The dog returned with the 
rabbit kicking in his mouth, and laid it at 
the feet of his master as a trophy worthy of 
the chase, occasionally nosing it to see if any 
life remained. Truly this cannot be sport. 



Huntinor with a Ferret 



231 



Crossing the hill we caught a view from 
the distance of a beautiful meadow flanked 
on one side by an old orchard, which long 
needed pruning and was grown up with 
blackberry briers. On the other side was a 







'j*«p^ 




^ 




"^-il 



c^'^ 



Picked Up 



thicket of locust, sumac, and elder, which had 
been cleared several years before and the 
debris piled on the stone heaps ready for the 
match that had never been applied. Here 
and there were stretches of stake and rider 
fence; in fact, it was an old farm neglected 
for many years owing to the death of the 
owner and continued litigation among the 
heirs for the possession of the land,— an ideal 
home for the cottontail. 



232 Huntin"^ with a Ferret 



& 



Crossing the meadow the dogs started a 
rabbit which had been basking in the sun, 
coiled up in a bed built in the middle of a 
bunch of dry swamp grass. The little fellow 
had remained perfectly quiet, although one of 
the party passed within two feet without 
seeing him, so well did his color harmonize 
with the surroundings. He remained unob- 
served until one of the dogs passing by started 
him and warned the other dogs, whereupon 
away they went in full chase. Through the 
orchard, down along the old fence, sped the 
fugitive, the dogs close behind, tonguing at 
every jump. Into the thicket he plunged, safe 
for the time being. The dogs began to circle, 
caught the trail on the opposite side, and 
followed it into another cover, where Bunny 
squatted and presently we saw him returning 
on his own trail. I made a run to head him 
off so that I could get a snap-shot, but observ- 
ing me he stopped in the middle of a wheat 
field. In the meantime the dogs had gath- 
ered enough information and were working 
their way back over the track until the leader 
came on to him, and away they went. The 
quarry returned towards the other dogs and 
was picked up before cover could be reached. 

Again the dogs were urged to hunt the old 
orchard. A start was made and away went 



Hunting with a Ferret 



233 



a rabbit across the meadow on the far side 
of which he darted into a burrow. The 
ferret was put into the hole and out popped 
three rabbits, one on the heels of the other. 




Down the Old Fence 



Each dog followed one, but soon returned, 
evidently unable to keep the trails, for they 
all crisscrossed around the orchard. In the 
meantime every effort was made to get the 
ferret, without success, when finally one of 
the unfeeling suggested shooting a bird. I 
protested against shooting a song bird and 
suggested an English sparrow, whereupon 



234 Hunting with a Ferret 

he promised to go down to the barn for a 
sparrow. However, upon returning he handed 
over a song sparrow {Melospiza fasciata), 
with its long tail and brownish-streaked body 
beautiful even in death. Charity impels 
me to believe the man was ignorant rather 
than willful. Pulling a piece of twine from 
his hunting-coat pocket, he tied fast the bird, 
a double hitch after hitch, so that the ferret 
could not loose the bait and carry it into the 
hole. When properly secured the bird was 
thrown to the ferret, and instantly seized. 
Each began to pull, when off went the head 
into the hole. Returning promptly for the 
body the ferret made another grab and was 
finally coaxed out of the hole and caught by 
the owner. 

The dogs began to work the trails and again 
had a rabbit crossing the meadow for dear 
life, they following close behind. He went 
into a hole among the roots of an old tree, to 
escape from his enemies, as he hoped, but 
alas, only to a cruel fate! "Put in the long 
pole," said one of the boys kneeling at the 
hole. The other started the ferret on its 
death-dealing mission. In a few minutes 
we could hear the smothered ''Wah, wah, 
wah" of cottontail, and a curse from the 
heartless, not out of sympathy for poor little 



Hunting with a Ferret 235 

bunny, but because he knew the rabbit would 
not make another attempt to reach the open- 
ing and the ferret would stay there for days. 
Fainter and fainter grew the pitiful moans, 



»v 


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■^"Tj^ 


t 

1 




^ 




M 


ii 


M 


M 


III 




The Dog Listening to the Last Sound 

until finally they ceased forever. One of 
the men went for an ax to cut a way down to 
the ferret. The hole took a downward course 
into an old root, and by cutting through they 
found the hole, reached in and pulled out 
the dead rabbit. It was sickening to see 
the condition of its head. The owner of the 
ferret had a cruel heart, but even it was 



236 



Hunting with a Ferret 



softened a little at the sight, for he threw 
the murderous creature away from him. 
Instantly the big dog made a jump, grabbed 
the ferret, and tossed him into the air several 
feet before his master could interfere. A 




Did He Come Out? 



feeling of satisfaction came over me when I 
saw the toss, and I said to myself, "That 
was your last kill." But landing on his 
feet he humped his back and at the same 
time hissing through his teeth made sev- 
eral vicious snaps at the dog and sought 
protection by running towards his master. 
Fortunately for him his master had the 



Huntino; with a Ferret 237 



't> 



sack open and the ferret hastened into it to 
safety. 

When I boarded the train for home that 
evening I felt as though I had spent a day 
in the shambles. Such slaughter seems to 
me to be utterly unjustifiable, even in the 
name of sport. 



CHAPTER VI 



A NIGHT HUNT 



A COON hunt is always interesting to me. 
Just as soon as night approaches and 
you call old Stump, who has lost the tip of 
his tail in a battle royal, he pricks up his 
ears, begins to whine, and seems to know 
that the boys are out for a coon hunt. As 
you approach to loosen the snap that ties 
him to the kennel he begins to wag what is 
left of his tail and seems to say, ''Boys, I 'm 
happy to be with you to-night ! ' ' The wrinkles 
in his face twitch as the excitement grows. 
His face and head indicate that he has been 
in many a coon fight. On one occasion he 
tracked a ground-hog into its hole underneath 
an uprooted tree. Being then of tender years 
and lacking experience, as the ground-hog 
came out, Stump made a grab and at the 
same time the ground-hog snapped Stump 
by the nose and held on like grim death. It 

took the combined efforts of men and dogs 

238 



A Night Hunt 



239 



to separate them. Finally in the mix-up 
Stump made one desperate struggle to get 
away and lost the tip of his nose. Thus 
with the two tips gone Stump entered the 
arena as a full-fledged — shall we say? — and 
experienced coon dog. 




The Hunting Party 

We gather at the country farm, boys and 
girls ready for the outing. Stump, Fan, and 
Towser all are anxious for a night out working 
the ravines and watercourses. Lanterns and 
"pit-lamps" are shining brightly as we start 
across the meadow. The dogs disappear in 
the darkness. The fireflies flash here and 
there as though to light our way across the 
fields. One of the party, and by the way a 



240 A Nio^ht Hunt 



fair one, steps into a pool of running water 
and the night air is pierced — in fact, sadly 
rent — by the shrill screams of the miss, for 
this is her first experience "trekking" in the 
dark. As we approach the woods the weird- 
ness of the scene is enchanting. Shadows 
play on the trees and leaves, as though in 
imagination one were transplanted into some 
fairy -land. Away off among the timber 
the great horned owl can be heard calling 
to its mate, "Waugh ho! waugh ho!" just 
before it makes an excursion into the fields 
in search of some hapless rabbit or bird. The 
crickets are fiddling away, making music 
for their mates while they gather blades of 
grass for their burrow. 

Presently our eager ears catch the low- 
grunt of a dog as he gets the first whiff of the 
trail, not fresh, but spent. By the reflected 
light we see Towser wag his tail, slowly at 
first, but as the scent gets warmer the tail 
wags more vigorously. Soon one long, loud 
wail resounds in the stillness of the night 
and ere the echo dies away in the distance 
it is repeated, and we know the chase is on. 
Everybody runs toward the sound. The 
quarry has taken to the tree and the dogs 
bay up, but before the party reaches the 
scene of action the dogs are off again. They 



A Ni^ht Hunt 241 



find the trail where the coon has followed 
a grapevine for some distance, taken the 
ground again, and "put one over" on the old 
dog. After considerable delay the dog finds 
his mistake, picks up the scent and away he 
goes, and directly, on the other side of the 
ridge, bays up. Then the party goes pell- 
mell in that direction. And so the hunt 
proceeds, now here, now there, up hill and 
across ravine, until at last the coon is treed, 
and the dogs by their change of voice tell 
the news and summon the party, which 
arrives in installments, out of breath, at the 
foot of the tree where the dogs are panting 
after their long chase. 

Every one is eager for the finish. The 
tree-climber of the party takes off his coat, 
hat, and shoes and begins the ascent to shake 
Mister Coon from the tree. A shout comes 
from the tree- top, "Here he is; look out 
below!" then follows a shake or two and a 
large house cat disappears into the darkness 
before the dogs can take hold. When the 
cat came down it alighted on all fours near 
the girls, and what with the girls screaming, 
the dogs barking, and the cat spitting, night 
was made hideous. We soon called the dogs 
off and " hied " them on for a fresh trail. 

By and by the dogs took another hot scent. 
16 



242 A Night Hunt 

Down the hill, clambering over a stake and 
rider fence, — a ruse which for a moment 
confused the dogs, — then across a cornfield 
to the creek went the coon with the dogs in 
hot pursuit; he followed the course of the 
creek for several rods, then dashed through 
at the shallows and bid fair to make good 
his escape to the woods beyond. But old 
Stump had been through that maneuver 
before; the rest of the dogs knew it and 
followed him over to the other bank, up the 
hill, under the cliff, and erelong bayed up. 
Following as fast as possible over and under 
dead trees, a jump of several feet over an 
embankment, a slide of several feet more, a 
brief climb and we reached the dogs, who, 
excitedly voicing their triumph, formed a 
circle around the tree as though appealing 
to us for action. 

The night was dark and just such a night 
as was well suited for "shining" the eyes of 
the coon. Lying flat on the ground and 
staring into every part of the tree, I finally 
descried two objects shining like stars near 
together in the zenith. We knew they were 
the eyes of the treed coon. Calling the dogs 
we prepared to photograph them and the 
coon in the mix-up. Setting up the kodak 
about twenty feet from the spot where we 



A Night Hunt 243 

figured the coon would drop from the tree, 
we fixed the pan for the flash, loading it with 
an ounce of flash-light powder. One of the 
party held the dogs and another lighted 
Roman candles and shot them towards the 
coon. Thus we had the artist at the kodak, 
the man in charge of the flash at the pan, 
the coon hunters holding the dogs, and one 
of Payne's pyrotechnic men setting off the 
fireworks. The combination was too much 
for the coon. About that time the big dog 
began to jerk at his chain, and the pit-lamp in 
the hands of the man who held him registered 
on the exposed sensitive film a sort of st^do- 
graphic record of the efforts of the dog to get 
at the coon as soon as the latter landed on 
the ground. As the coon dropped we set 
the flash off, and caught both the dog and 
coon about the time they came together at 
the very spot on which we had focused the 
lens. 

The chase ended, the quarry caught, we 
straggled back over the hills to the distant 
trolley line, as Orion rose high toward the 
zenith. A few hours more, and the eastern 
sky would grow gray. Tired, but happy, 
we jogged along, most of us in silence, for 
about that time in the morning after a coon 
hunt, the songs and jokes of the early evening 



244 



A Night Hunt 



are stale, and our spirits, with the night, are 
on the wane. Like an exploded sk^^rocket, we 




Dog and Coon in the Mix-up 

Note the forefoot of the coon between the dog's hind legs ; his 
banded tail to the right of the dog's right forefoot. The 
zig-zag line in front of the man at the left indicates the 
movement of his hand in which was a pit-lamp and the 
end of the dog's chain just prior to the flash. 

are getting back again to earth as fast as we can 
after our excursion into the realm of darkness. 
Another denizen of the woods is frequently 
interrupted in his night prowlings by the dogs 
hunting for coon. I refer to the oppossum, 
who is himself frequently the object of the 
quest. In the Southern States the negroes are 



A Nio^ht Hunt 245 



't> 



very fond of hunting for 'possiim. A success- 
ful hunt means a good dinner, the piece-de- 
rcsistance being the trophy of the chase 
stuffed with sweet potatoes. Roasted and 
served as only an old "mammy" can roast 
and serve it, 'possum defies comparison. 
Perhaps roast suckling-pig comes the nearest, 
but even this lacks the flavor of the woods. 
We are used to thinking of the 'possum as a 
lethargic animal, but that is onh^ when he is 
"pla3dng 'possum." He is really quite agile, 
and when treed by the dogs, furnishes no end 
of excitement by climbing, not into the tops 
of the trees, as does the coon, but merely 
far enough to be safe from his pursuers. I 
have yet in anticipation the pleasure of 
obtaining a flash-light of the hounds on their 
hind legs, pawing and clawing at a tree on 
which, just beyond their reach, the 'possum 
lies stretched indifferently on a horizontal 
limb. One really ought to have a dicta- 
graph, so that when the picture is thrown 
on the screen, it may be with the appropriate 
accompaniment of the baying and barking 
of the hounds and the shouts of the hunters. 
The little animal is very prolific and rears 
several families in a season. How interesting 
it is to watch the antics of the young clinging 
to the mother when disturbed ! I have known 



246 A Night Hunt 

cases where an old 'possum, presumably alone, 
was shaken out of a tree, and as she fell, 
strange, plaintive cries were heard on all 
sides. The rays of the lantern disclosed per- 
haps a dozen young 'possums, who had been 
ruthlessly dislodged from the pouch or marsu- 
pium of the mother as she struck the ground. 
On such an occasion, if the parent is allowed 
an opportunity, she will gather up the young 
and hunt cover. 

There is something quite comfortable and 
clinging about the young 'possums and their 
mother (Frontispiece). The little fellows are 
very roguish in their ways, and I have no 
doubt would in time become friendly. The 
'possum has very sharp teeth, and can do 
good execution upon occasion, but as a 
general rule he may be said to have a 
* ' retiring ' ' disposition. 



CHAPTER VII 



IN THE SPRINGTIME 



A S soon as the first harbingers of spring 
** arrive we take to the forest. Life 
is just awakening in the northern woods. 
The winter has been long and severe. Fol- 
lowing the course of the creek we see large 
cakes of ice thrown topsy-turv>^ all over 
the meadow, where they have been carried 
by the spring freshet. In the gorge block 
after block is piled; they are lying in ever}^ 
conceivable position. The spring sun is busy 
undoing what the hard winter has accom- 
plished. The cakes of cr3'-stal ice are fast 
losing their deep blue color, becoming "rot- 
ten" and breaking off in huge chunks with 
a report that fairly startles one. The newly- 
exposed ice-prisms glisten in the sun like 
so many jewels. To add to the attractions 
of the landscape, the creek is lined with 
stately sycamores, — here and there a lonely 

buttonball clings by a slender stem to the 

247 



248 In the Springtime 

parent tree, as though loath to break away. 
Or perhaps it is hopeful that by some imagi- 
nary elixir of life it may renew its youth and 
live the spring and summer over again, 
forgetful that on the verge of inaugurating 
a new cycle of existence, — the birth of an- 
other generation, — it has before it the great 
consummation of all life. Where the hills 
furnish a dark background the old tree stands 
out, weird and majestic, its limbs white and 
naked after shedding their cinnamon -like 
bark. It glistens in the sunlight almost as 
much as the ice-prisms. The high water is 
busy undermining the bank of the stream 
and an occasional cave-in appears, as though 
some muskrat surprised in his foraging were 
making a hasty departure for his tunnelled 
home. 

The woods are ringing with the song of 
the cardinals {Cardinalis cardinalis cardinalis) , 
and just as soon as you enter their "beat" 
they seem to take notice and are ready to 
fight an}" intruder. It is a noteworth}" fact 
that the "sphere of influence" of a particular 
cock is limited to a portion of a tract of wood- 
land as well defined as though surrounded 
by a fence. If you can conceal yourself 
in his zone and imitate his call, the bird will 
approach very near. In my younger days 




a 

eS 
O 

<L> 

43 



a; 

a 

o 

w 



ON 



250 In the Springtime 

many were the cardinals I trapped in the 
following manner: In the mating season 
we would take a caged bird into the woods, 
the cage covered from the time we left home 
until we reached the woods. Selecting a 
likely place, we set our net, and attached 
a rope which led to a blind constructed of 
boughs put together as naturally as possible. 
Then when all was ready we lifted the cover 
of the cage. The sudden emergence from 
darkness to light seemed to fill the very soul 
of the caged bird with gladness, and even 
before we could conceal ourselves behind the 
blind it would break forth into the sweetest 
melodies, filling the woods with its songs, as 
though once again free in its erstwhile haunts. 
Ere the first notes die away in the distance, 
like an echo comes the answer from the 
proprietary lord of that particular section 
of woodland, as though he seemed to say: 
"Some miscreant has entered my shady 
bowers to entice my fair one away, so I 11 
teach him a lesson and drive him out of my 
domain." Again the voice of the caged 
bird peals forth in a loud, clear whistling call, 
but I have no doubt the notes are not so 
sweet to the suspicious wild bird, for he is 
answering in an angry tone. In the mean- 
time the wild bird is cautiously advancing. 



In the Springtime 251 

flitting from limb to limb. If he comes from 
the direction of the blind, he may be so near 
that you can distinctly see the bristled rictus 
and black mask on his face, the crested top, 
and glowing red body. Presently he sees 
the captive bird, makes a dive for it, and 
hangs onto the wires, trying to get hold of 
the intruder, picking and striking through 
the narrow openings so excitedly that he does 
not notice the net being pulled over him. 
What loyalty to his mate we see in this Httle 
bird! Thus many cardinals are caught. If 
the other bird does not encroach on their beat 
they will not answer to the call, but by shifting 
the cage even fifty feet or less, it may enter 
the domain of another and then he will show 
fight even to the death. 

The piping of the cardinal is shrill at times, 
again soft, mellow, and soothing to the ear. 
He is a perfect vocalist and is known as 
one of the best whistlers among the feathery 
tribes; indeed, by some he is called the Ameri- 
can nightingale. At times when he ends up 
his song with ''Pretty, pretty, pretty," I 
repeat the words, agreeing absolutely with 

him. 

He shows some strange antics occasionally. 
Once we found a nest built in a crab tree 
about three feet from the ground. When 



252 



In the Springtime 



we first found it there were four light blue 




Cardinal's Nest and Eggs 



eggs blotched with liver-colored spots, laid 
in a loosely-built nest of rootlets, grass, 
and grapevine bark. About a week later 



In the Springtime 253 

when we visited it the nest was empty. 
Looking toward the ground by chance, 
I saw a Httle bird "in the down" apparently 
without hfe. Lifting it up in my hand, 
by close observation I noticed that it still 
breathed. We put the bird into the nest, 
went away, and returned in about thirty 
minutes, when to our surprise we found the 
nestling was gone again! Query, did the 
mother bird carry away its offspring to 
some place of safety where it would not be 
disturbed? 

On another occasion we found a nest in the 
top of a grapevine. We drew down the vine, 
photographed the nest, and restored the nest 
to its original position. Calling the following 
week I found the mother bird had incubated 
the brood as though nothing had happened, 
but the young were taken from the nest as 
soon as thc}^ could be moved and some days 
before they would ordinarily have been allowed 
to leave home. Although the cardinal is 
naturally shy and retiring, at times he will 
permit one to get very close. I am glad to 
think that in many of the States this beautiful 
bird is increasing under the protection of 
the law. 

While sitting on a moss-covered log enjoying 
the balmy breezes of spring, the "dee, dee, 



254 



In the Springtime 



dee" notes of the tufted titmouse {Par us 
bicolor) came to my ear. What hardy httle 
birds they are! The coldest winter of the 
north does not affect them. They are fear- 
less of man at times, and if you keep quiet 




Winter in the North 

they will flit about from place to place, alter- 
nately disclosing to you now their ashy blue 
backs, now their dull white, russet-flanked 
under-parts, as they swing from twig to twig, 
scanning each little crevice for a choice 
morsel of insect life. 

When the first warm ra^^s hatch the winged 
insects, the tragedy of the woods begins. 



In the Springtime 255 

A little cream-colored butterfly just out of 
its winter garb is on the wing, floating grace- 
fully in the air among the leafless trees. 
The titmouse, with his bright eye ever on 
the alert, spies the insect, makes a sprightly 
dart, and seldom misses his mark. Then he 
perches on a limb with the fly and, like a 
bird of prey, takes hold with bill and feet 
and tears his victim apart, and as the rem- 
nants of the little wings float slowly to the 
ground, he feeds on the body. 

The indigo bunting {Passerina cyanea) with 
its exquisite lay makes its abode very attrac- 
tive to bird fanciers. In the mating season 
he can be seen perched on the topmost twig 
of one of the graceful drooping limbs of the 
elm bush, a little blue ball of feathers, throat 
expanded, pouring forth sweet music. If an 
instrument could be invented to record and 
reproduce the melody as he delivers it in the 
stillness of the morning when the little song- 
ster is at his best, it would become a very 
popular air. The indigo is frequently kept 
in captivity, but loses all the sweetness of 
song and the little male soon drops his beauti- 
ful livery and dons a distasteful shabby color, 
lacking even the somber luster of the female. 
During the period of mating, the cock-bird 
can be trapped very easily by using a trap 



256 



In the Springtime 



cage with a bird in the lower compartment. 
As a boy, I have placed a trap cage on my 
head, walked under the tree where the wild 
bird was singing, with my mouth made a few 




Indigo Bunting's Nest with Cowbird's Egg 

kissing sounds, whereupon the bird would 
fly down into the cage and try to get through 
the wires to the captive. If some wheat 
grains were placed on the "paddle," the wild 
bird would invariably light on it first, and 
picking up the grains would spring the trap 
and be caught while the cage was on my 
head. 



In the Springtime 257 

In constructing their nest they usually 
select a dense thicket and frequentl}^ build 
near the ground, where they deposit four 
or five bluish-white eggs not much bigger 
than a large pea. The cowbird {Molothrus 
ater), which is a sort of parasite, does not 
build a nest of its own, but lays its eggs in 
the nest of some other bird. In this respect 
it shows its wonderful instinct by selecting 
a smaller bird as foster mother for its off- 
spring. By experience they have been 
taught that the larger birds invariably dispose 
of the eggs by removing them from the nest. 
It frequently selects the bunting's nest in 
which to deposit its brown spotted eggs, 
which are much larger. The cowbird, being 
of a larger species, grows much faster, and 
before long the foundling fills the little nest, 
forcing the rightful owners out of home and 
board. On one occasion I visited a nest and 
found it almost upset, with the "big cow" 
filling the whole nest. On the upper edge 
perched one little bunting, almost feather- 
less, shivering in the cold. From under- 
neath the "parasite" could be seen the head 
of the other, panting for breath and nearly 
stifled. We removed the cowbird, straightened 
up the nest, replaced the rightful owners of 
the house, and perched the cowbird nearby on 



17 



258 



In the Springtime 



a bush. We then went off a short distance 
and watched developments, and to our sur- 
prise the Httle male bunting fed the cowbird 
first. It was strange to see the youngster, 




The Young Interloper 
(He sits on one and crowds the other out.) 



as large as his foster parent, open his mouth 
so wide you could imagine he was getting 
ready to swallow the old bird, — indeed he 
looked as though he could, rapacious pirate 
offspring that he was. On telling the story 
to a friend, he remarked, "Well, how do you 
account for the foolish old man neglecting his 
own offspring and feeding the cowbird first.'*" 



In the Springtime 



259 



I cannot answer that, unless the old fellow 
was proud of his big son. 

The red-eyed vireo {Vireosylva olivacea) 
loves solitude. During the nesting season 




A Well-Constructed Home 
(Note the Cowbird's egg in nest.) 

it seeks some dense thicket, selects a fork on 
a drooping limb, and constructs its wonderful 
basket-shaped, pensile nest. Intertwining 
about the fork a silky material for the basis 
of the structure, they put together with 
grasses, lichens, and plant fibres a wonderful 
little home for their progeny. When working 
away at building they are very cheerful, 



260 



In the Springtime 



almost continually singing a sweet, pleasant 
warble, as though haranguing the dwellers 
of the silent places, hence their pseudonj^m. 




Madam Vireo at Home 



"preacher." Very frequently in the dense 
foliage nearby skulks another member of the 
feathery tribe, watching every movement of 
the industrious pair, and now she gloats over 
them when, their work of art complete, they 
flit from limb to limb, closely observing the 
masterpiece and softly twittering their satis- 
faction, as though to say, "Well done." 



In the Springtime 261 

Tired and hungry after their labors they 
wander away in search of food, singing 
cheerily as they twitch their heads now this 
way, now that, seeking a worm or insect. 
When they have gone, the somber-gowned, 
parasitic mate of a polygamist makes a bee- 
line for the nest, hastily drops a large speckled 
egg in the neat little basket, then quits the 
thicket and returns afield to the flock from 
which she came, leaving her ignominious 
progen}^ to be hatched and reared by the 
foster parents. When the vireos return, im- 
agine the little red eyes looking with surprise 
at the egg that almost fills the cradle. They 
have not the strength, even if it occurred to 
them, to tumble the egg overboard, and 
unlike the yellow warblers, who sometimes 
build another nest on top of the egg, they 
resignedly proceed with the family duties. 

The cowbird is a parasite of the worst kind ; 
it lays its egg, not on the doorstep, like 
some foundlings, but in the bedchamber. The 
period of incubation being shorter than with 
most other birds, the egg is hatched sooner, 
the bird grows more rapidly, and consequently 
young molothrus frequently stifles the rightful 
owners of the home. One by one the vireo 
fledglings die and are carried from the nest 
by the mourning parents, and so the survivor 



262 



In the Springtime 



flourishes and grows fat, rocked in the cradle 
by the gentle breezes and under the care and 
protection of the little red-eyed vireos. The 



lit' i^-' 




The Usiu-per 

vireos are noted as good providers and pro- 
tectors. During incubation they are fearless 
and loath to leave their eggs, — at times indeed, 
will permit you to approach the nest within 
two feet and photograph. We made several 
attempts to get the picture on page 260 
but without success, until with a hand-mirror 



In the Springtime 263 

as a reflector we threw the rays of the sun on 
the bird. The light seemed to bewilder her 
and had the same effect as a "flash-light" 
has on a moose or deer in the stillness of a 
dark night. Thus we were able to take a 
photograph by time-exposure. 

It is very seldom that a mixed family is 
raised. Usually the children of the home 
perish, and then how the young cowbird does 
continually call to the foster parents, "hungry, 
hungry, I'm hungry," and how the little 
birds must work to satisfy the fast-growing 
changeling. At last one day the parents 
find their darling has disappeared; their 
summer's work is finished; four cunning 
little vireo nestlings have met an untimely 
fate, and one arrogant young cowbird is well 
started upon his infamous career. Despite 
his careful rearing his blood will tell just as 
surely as if he were human. 

Over yonder, a stone's throw from my 
sleeping-porch, stands the stump of a hard- 
wood tree, now soft from years of exposure to 
the elements. First the slender twigs decaying 
dropped one by one, then limb after limb, 
until all that remained of the noble tree, the 
growth of years, was this stump, where one 
bright morning in March I heard from my 
bed the familiar tapping sound characteristic 



264 In the Springtime 

of the woodpecker family. It was a flicker 
{Colaptes auratus luteus). The mating season 
was due, the ardent lovers were busy making 
holes here and there, as is customary, until 
finally they accomplished one to their liking 
and began their domestic duties in earnest. 
Some weeks later, in answer to my tapping 
on the stump, a head appeared at the door 
looking from side to side for the cause of the 
noise. It was the father of the family who 
reconnoitered the situation. The characteris- 
tic broad streaks of black throat feathers, 
commonly referred to as his "dark mus- 
tache," served to identify him. For some 
time we had suspected the young were soon 
to leave their home. Tom climbed the tree 
in search of "data," for the accumulation of 
which he is quite eager, but before he got 
half way up, shouted, "There goes one of 
the kids, — there goes another." While their 
intentions were good, through lack of training 
"the kids" soon came to the ground. It 
is said of the flicker family that the parents 
coax and coax the young birds to leave the 
hole, but the latter are very reluctant to do so, 
and at times the parents are constrained to 
resort to starving or practically kicking 
them out. In the hole three were left. Tom 
brought them out and took them to a slanting 



In the Springtime 



26.S 



tree. It was interesting to watch them. 
Like all climbers, they have two toes in front 
and two behind and in climbing are assisted 
by their rigid tail feathers. Tom was kept 
busy trying to arrange them within focus 




Young Flickers 



of the camera. For some time it was im- 
possible to make them stay "posed"; they 
insisted on climbing the tree. After a while 
they got tired and then posed nicely for 
their picture. During the whole time they 
called in plaintive tone and the parent birds 
answered as they hovered around. After 
being photographed the birds were returned 



266 In the Springtime 

to their home, where they seemed well satisfied 
to remain. 

This member of the woodpecker family 
has some individuality. While the other 
woodpeckers stay in the trees, he spends a 
great deal of his time on the ground, some 
of it in feeding, and some of it certainly in 
amusement. He finds the latter on tree and 
ground alike. I have seen them going 
through various contortions and maneuvers, 
some of which closely resembled the figures 
in a minuet. On one occasion I witnessed 
a fight between two males on the ground. 
How they parried, juked, and dodged to avoid 
the sally of the adversar}^, until finally one 
got the better of the other and the vanquished 
took to flight. Every spring for several 
years a flicker takes up his abode near the 
home of a friend of mine, who relates with a 
great deal of interest how the bird attracts 
attention by visiting at frequent intervals a 
tin box on top of an arc-light pole, where he 
takes much delight in spending considerable 
time drumming away, as though the musician 
of the regiment were practicing his favorite 
tattoo. 

Of all the birds of Pennsylvania the male 
scarlet tanager (Piranga erythromelas) is the 
most beautifully and attractively colored. 



In the Springtime 



267 



Seldom seen by the occasional visitor to the 
woods, like a ''Will o' the wisp" he flits 
through the thick foHage, uttering his peculiar 
"chirp churr. " I remember well finding my 
first nest of the tanager after several years of 




Nest and Eggs of Tanager 

search. On a horizontal limb of an elm tree 
about ten feet from the ground I noticed a 
few twigs and roots placed on the limb. So 
frail was the structure that even the sunlight 
shone through. Although I saw the female 
fluttering around considerably disturbed, I 
did not give it much thought, but left the 
location, only to return again to investi- 
gate. Imagine my agreeable surprise when, 



268 



In the Springtime 



on climbing the tree, I saw four handsome 
bluish-green speckled eggs in the frail struc- 
ture of twigs and rootlets. I have no doubt 
the scanty nest is a protection, for it requires 




Little Green Heron's Nest 

a close observer to distinguish it as the living 
habitation of a bird. 

The green heron {Biitorides virescens) 
dwells in colonies at times, and frequently 
in solitary pairs along creeks and ponds. 
They build their nests on small trees and 
bushes. The same birds will build in one 
locality for years if unmolested, and even 
if disturbed will probably find a site nearby 



In the Springtime 



269 



the following year. I remember finding a 
nest built on a small black-haw bush about 
ten feet from the ground. We visited the 
nest frequently until five bluish-green eggs 




Little Green Heron's Nest 
(Note frog legs to left of young bird.) 

were laid in the frail-looking platform of 
twigs. Its fragile appearance is deceptive, 
however, for the nest is really strongly con- 
structed amongst the limbs upon which it 
rests. An egg collector found the nest and 
removed two of the eggs, but the mother 
bird continued to incubate. We cut the 
limb off and removed the nest to the ground 



270 



In the Springtime 



to photograph, then returned it, made it fast 
as before, and the bird hatched out a brood 
successfully from the three remaining eggs. 
One day upon visiting the nest I found one 
of the occupants in the act of swallowing a 




Leaving the Nest 

frog. All that remained of the frog was a 
leg sticking out of the nestling's mouth. It 
was not long before the bird disgorged the legs, 
or all that was undigested of them. About 
a week later I visited the nest, and looking 
up saw three long necks and three heads 
sticking up over the edge. Before long the}'- 
started one by one to leave the nest, stepping 
rather ceremoniously along the limbs towards 



In the Springtime 271 

the foHage at the top. Occasionally one 
would miss his foothold and partially lose 
his balance, but by the use of wings and 
beak would right himself. Often when in 
distress and hastening to get away, the young 
herons will use their heads and necks as a 
parrot does its beak, "chinning" themselves 
upon a limb and drawing up the body by 
main strength. These birds when frightened 
disgorge partially digested food ; and because 
of their predilection to the generous distri- 
bution of ornithological whitewash at frequent 
intervals as they fly, they well deserve the 
name of ''chalk-Hne." While climbing the 
trees on several occasions when visiting the 
homes of these birds, I found to my sorrow 
that "discretion is the better part of valor." 
Although they seem to be extremely shy, they 
will return from time to time to the neigh- 
borhood of their nests. They do not often 
approach closely, however, while a visitor 
is near, and on such occasions remain at 
some distance craning their necks curiously 
in every direction. They seldom utter a 
sound unless startled, when with a hoarse 
"quawk" and a shrilly harsh cry, they 
hastily fly away. 

The rose-breasted grosbeak (Zamelodia 
ludoviciana) is one of the handsomest of the 



2"] 2 



In the Springtime 



finch family, and also one of the most useful 
to the farmer. The grosbeak's chief diet is 
bugs and other insects, the potato bug being a 




Nest and Eggs of Grosbeak 

favorite morsel in their menu. They usually 
build their nest on a bush and are very de- 
voted to their home, so much so that when 
eggs are removed they continue to lay and 
incubate the remaining eggs. On one occasion 
in photographing a nest containing two eggs 
it was necessary to pull the slendor bush over 
and tie it within range of the camera. The 



In the Springtime 



273 



cord snapped, releasing the saphng and the 
eggs were thrown out and destroyed, much to 
our annoyance. On the following week when 



f^ i'^ 








^^ 


^4k ^^^l^^^^^k* ^C 






J% ■ >T ^KPffff^k V *' 




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^^ 


^nV '* ^ 


llp^-vMW' /■<%^:ov2| 


HP^ 


iyi 





Nestlings 



we returned we found the mother bird had laid 
two more eggs in the nest. The birds raised 
their small brood as though nothing had hap- 
pened. I have visited many grosbeaks' nests, 
and excepting on one or two occasions I have 
not seen the female incubating. This duty 



18 



274 



In the Springtime 



seems to be performed more often by the male. 
The blue-gray gnat-catchers {Polioptila 
ccerulea) are among the birds who build their 
nests early. When building is on, the nests 
are very easy to find, but ere the young are 




Fledglings 

hatched out the foliage affords effective 
concealment. Their squeaky voices attract 
your attention, and looking towards the 
very top of the tree 3''Ou can see them flitting 
from limb to limb. Before long, one or the 
other draws nearer and nearer the nest; then 
a quick flight, and there it is in the partly 
constructed home. Watching with the field- 
glass you can see them constructing the most 



In the Springtime 



275 



beatitiful nest in all bird architecture, save 
possibly that of the ruby-throated humming- 
bird, which builds a similar home. They 
usually select an elm tree, and at a height of 




Tom at the Nest 



thirty to fifty feet saddle the nest on the 
under or horizontal branch of a fork. Thus 
the branching s^^stem of the elm is peculiarly 
adapted to their style of architecture. It 
furnishes a shelter from storm and hawk 
overhead, and prowling boy or bird of prey 
in the brush underneath. The nest in the 
illustration accompanying the text was taken 



2/6 



In the Springtime 



upon an oak, which my experience leads me 
to beheve is an unusual site. How interesting 
to watch both male and female building their 
nest in the crotch! After several days' 




Nest and Eggs of the Blue-gray Gnat-catcher 



work the structure begins to take shape and 
the master touches are being put to the little 
cup of lichens, moss, and grass. Alighting 
in it the builders crane their necks and with 
their long bills tuck in the moss and lichens 
all around, much as a mother tucks the 
clothing around her sleeping babe in the 
cradle. When all is complete the five little 



In the Springtime 



277 



speckled eggs are deposited and incuba- 
tion begins. The parent is quite plucky 




Photo by C. H. Brown 

Nest and Young of Goldfinch 

and resents any intrusion upon the sanc- 
tity of her home. On one occasion I saw 
a downy woodpecker come too close to a 
gnat-catcher's nest. Like a streak of light 
she shot out, a mix-up followed, and the 
downy made haste to get away. Another 



278 



In the Springtime 



time a redstart was taught the lesson that 
it did not pay to "hang around" this httle 
bird's home. 

In the early spring we hear a concert of 
sweet voices coming from a flock of songsters 




Red-spotted Purple Butterfly on Queen Anne's Lace 

in the summit of the elm, their favorite tree. 
Their period of love-making is long, as all 
their brothers and sisters of the same order 
have with very few exceptions finished their 
family duties before the American goldfinch 
{Astragalinus tristis) looks about and selects 
for his nest the fork of a bush or tree handy 
to some thistly field. Here the family of 



In the Springtime 279 

three to six young is reared. From his fond- 
ness for thistle seeds he gets his common 
name, "thistle-bird." As the thistles ripen 
he can be seen picking away as he clings to 
the burr in every conceivable position, re- 
leasing the "witches" that float gracefully 
off with the gentle breezes over the field; 
regardless is he of the bees that tend the rose- 
purple flower-heads scattered here and there 
among the ripe thistle- tops. Over yonder a 
colony of the delicate blossoms of the "Queen 
Anne's lace" is quite conspicuous. Hovering 
around are many flies and bees. A red- 
spotted purple butterfly lights gracefully on 
the plant, folding and unfolding its beauti- 
fully colored wings. He is safe from any 
molestation on the part of the goldfinch, who 
is essentially a seed-eater Thus it is that 
these two highly-decorated creatures may 
often be seen gathering food side by side in 
the meadow. 

There are some advantages in late building, 
and especially to the thistle-birds. They 
get rid of the parasite cowbird, whose season 
for propagation must needs be earlier in order 
to afford sufficient time for development; for 
the young cowbird is more phlegmatic in 
temperament and slower in growth, nor 
does he stay with us so late as the young 



28o 



In the Springtime 



goldfinch. Again, the thistle-birds, being 
seed-eaters, find a more bountiful supply 
of food as the July days approach. 

In the air they are readily distinguished 
by their undulatory flight. Frequently re- 




Photo by C. H. Brown 



Young Goldfinch 



peating their bubbling, laughter-like call, 
they pass overhead, describing circle after 
circle as though compelled thus to work off 
some of the buoyanc}^ of their nature. The 
essence of cleanliness, they love to bathe in 
the purling waters of the brook where the 
pebbles lend their smoothness to the ever- 
rippling streamlet; there in some secluded 



In the Springtime 281 

spot during the sweltering weather of July 
and August the little birds delight to splash 
the crystal waters over their lemon-colored 
plumage. In m}^ earlier days I have often 
caught them in the following manner: We 
would thrust a branch into the ground at 
one of the bathing places, and on the side of 
the stream from which by prior observation 
it was ascertained that the birds usually 
approached. They would alight on this 
branch as they came to the water, and after a 
while would become accustomed to linger 
on it before descending to the bath. In a 
few days we would cut pliant tips of the 
willow, smear them with bird-lime, and by 
means of slits cut in the branch would arrange 
the besmeared twigs high enough that when 
the bird alighted the limed twigs stuck to his 
breast feathers and swung around under- 
neath, sticking the wing fast to his side so 
that the bird could not move. Invariably 
it would fall to the ground, unable in the 
case of the smaller birds either to walk or 
fly, and thus became an easy prey. Of 
course this was a boyhood prank, and my 
love to have the songster with me at home 
led me to place him in captivity. My ideas 
have changed and to-day I love the birds best 
in their natural haunts among the environ- 



282 



In the Springtime 



ments in which they sing the sweetest, their 
plumage is the finest, and where Hberty of 
flight adds to their grace and charm. 

In selecting the place to trap the birds 
where they go to bathe, one must bear in mind 




Nest of Red-wing Blackbird 



that some birds will frequent one place, 
some birds another. We would set out a line 
of traps some distance apart. In going 
from place to place we gave the birds time 
to visit in our absence. If perchance a bird 
disturbed the twigs, we always knew it, for 
we kept the number of the smeared twigs set 
on each branch. If a twig were missing and 



In the Springtime 



283 



no bird in sight, on looking around we were 
sure to find the bird, if small, somewhere 
near the branch, or in case of larger birds, 
some distance away, for while the smaller 
birds were hopelessl}^ entangled, the larger 




Young Red-wing Blackbirds 

ones could walk but could not fly, and fre- 
quently got away by going through the grass 
and working rid of the small willow twig. 

Among the first harbingers of spring the 
red-wing blackbirds {Agelaius phceniceus) are 
conspicuous among the swamps and meadows, 
where they gather in flocks. The birds build 
their nests among the cat-tails, willows, and 



284 In the Springtime 

small bushes along the margin of swamps and 
meadows. As 3^ou approach they warn you 
of their disapproval in anxious tones. In 
a short time, however, they cease their noise 
and fly from point to point, lighting on the 
slender top of cat-tail, limb or weed, grace- 
fully swaying backward and forward with 
the gentle breezes. It is thus they show 
their beautiful wings to the best advantage. 
Among the cat-tails they love to build 
their nest from one to three feet above 
the water. A coarse grass is used to bind 
the nest to the stock and within this is 
constructed a bulky basket of weeds and 
grass, in which they deposit four or five 
whitish, bluish, or greenish eggs, fantastically 
marked with dots, .scrawls, and blotches, 
resembling some of the illegible hieroglyphics 
of the past ages. 

My opportunity to study the ways of 
the cliff swallow {Petrochelidon lunifrons) has 
been very limited. My young friend Tom 
wrote me the birds were at work, a colony 
being busy building their odd-shaped nests 
on the rafters of a cow barn. When I visited 
the place I found the nests were built quite 
close to each other. How the birds did scold 
when we approached, darting around and 
around at first, but, gradually quieting down, 



In the Springtime 



285 



they disappeared! In the meantime we were 
trying to get a snap-shot of a bird entering 
the neck of the nest. The nests were con- 
structed of small pellets of mud, and were 
gourd-shaped, lined with grass and feathers. 






Homes of the Cliff Swallows 

There they laid their four or five white 
speckled eggs. I understood this was the 
second year in succession they had built in 
this barn, but the following year they selected 
a bam some distance away. How conspicuous 
the rufous nunp appeared when they entered 
the nest! They never remained long, but 
were off again, always on the wing. They 



286 In the Springtime 

entered the frail structures hke fairies, touch- 
ing the opening Hghtl}^ entering easily, then 
reappearing, to be off again on the wing. 
Sometimes they stopped for a moment at 
the mouth, clogging the entrance entirely 
with the body. As some writer has said, 
the bird is known by its "crescent-shaped 
frontlet shining like a moon," hence its 
specific Latin name "lunifrons," — moon-brow. 
One need not draw far on his imagination 
to think that the moon on her brow dis- 
penses light for the mother bird to see the 
little mouths as she feeds her young in the 
' ' darksome cave. ' ' 

The song sparrow (Melospiza melodia) is 
among the first to return to its summer home. 
What a cheerful, fascinating little fellow he 
is as he perches on the fence post, or "any 
old place," pouring forth his lightsome, 
varied songs! Clothed in his somber brown 
suit, he is instantly recognized by the dark 
throat patch. There is no regularity in what 
they do, or how, where, or when they do it. 
They build nests on the ground and in bushes, 
bulky or sparse, lined with horse hairs or 
otherwise, and lay eggs irregularly speckled. 
They begin to build their nests about the 
time the trillium is peeping through the 
ground, and the brood are ready to leave 



In the Springtime 



287 



their home when the trilHum is in full blossom. 
How delighted the children are when, if 
perchance out gathering flowers, they see 
the hasty flight of the mother bird as she 
quits her carefully concealed nest, and part- 




Nest of the Song Sparrow 

ing the leaves, there they find a family of 
fledglings, mouths wide open, waiting for 
the return of the mother with food to satisfy 
their wants! One day I found a song spar- 
row's nest in a small catalpa tree. On closer 
examination I noticed a young bird hanging 
by the neck, dead. I have no doubt that 
when the bird was ready to leave the nest 



288 



In the Springtime 



it became entangled in the horse hair, for 
a loop was found around its neck, and when 
the little youngster, in its endeavors to release 
itself, tumbled overboard, it was strangled 
to death. 

A large percentage of the nests of the wood 




A Tragedy in Nature 

thrush {Hylocichla mustelma) are destroyed 
or abandoned from various causes. When 
incubation is begun the mother bird is very 
loath to leave the nest and will permit you 
to come very near. The accompanying 
photograph was obtained after many failures. 
Day by day we approached nearer and nearer 
until finally the bird allowed us to set the 



In the Springtime 



289 



kodak within two feet of the nest, and the 
ch'ck of the shutter did not disturb her, 
although she seemed to quiver as if in great 
fear. 

These birds love solitude, and how charming 
to listen to their sweet melodies coming from 




Wood Thrush 



the depths of the woodland ! Often in building 
their nest they select some limb or fork of a 
sapling near a path frequented by lovers of 
the woods. The place, method, and material 
chosen by them make it quite easy to find 
their home. It is built of coarse grass, which 
usually streams down over the limb, while 
paper is frequently used in the formation of 



19 



290 



In the Springtime 



the lower and outer part of the nest, rendering 
it quite conspicuous. Various catises, such 
as hawks, owls, and snakes, contribute to the 




Nest and Eggs of Wood Thrush 

destruction of a large proportion of these 
nests. 

One day we were walking through a strip 
of woods that lay along a babbling brook, 
wending our way towards a wood thrush's 
nest which on the occasion of our last visit 
contained several eggs. When we came to 



In the Springtime 



291 



the nest we found the eggs had been removed, 
and we left, wondering what agency was 
responsible. A short distance from the nest 




up a Stump 

we saw a large black snake gliding through 
the grass toward a rotten stump about ten 
feet high. I set after him and he climbed a 
big locust tree, on which he paused for a 
moment at a height of some six feet from the 
ground. Then when disturbed he slipped 
over to a hollow stump, which had grown 



292 



In the Springtime 



alongside from the same base, and to our 
surprise proceeded to enter a knothole that 
seemed far too small for him. Not to be 
outdone, we pried the stimip from the main 




Wood Thrush's Nest with Young 



trunk and found the snake coiled like a watch 
spring tightly against the inner walls of the 
hollow base. From this position he had to 
be pried, inch by inch, while I pulled him out 
by the tail and dragged him into an open 
field nearby, where he could be photographed. 
We placed a limb in the ground at an angle, 



In the Springtime 293 

but although we tried many times, the snake 
refused to crawl up. Finally we got the 
original stump, placed it in the ground, 
started Mr. Snake toward it, and he, im- 
mediately recognizing his former retreat, 
gracefully crawled up the tree. 

The wood thrush builds its nest anywhere 
from two to twelve feet from the ground and 
on almost any kind of bush or tree. They 
are not over-sensitive if one disturbs the nest. 
In order to get the accompanying photograph 
it was necessary to remove the nest from its 
lofty position some twelve feet above the 
ground to a limb about two feet high. After 
taking the picture of the nest with the four 
eggs, we returned it to its original place. 
The following week we called and found 
three of the eggs hatched. We removed 
the nest and after photographing returned 
it, and the birds remained until full-fledged, 
as though nothing had happened to their 
childhood home. 

How elegantly dressed the American red- 
start {Setophaga rnticilla) appears on his 
arrival from his winter home! The costume 
of his wife is not so flaming, but is neverthe- 
less very attractive. How active they seem, 
flitting from place to place, at times having 
all the characteristics of the flycatcher and 



294 



In the Springtime 



again all the marks of the sylvan warblers 
they are! Proud as a peacock, he spreads 
his pretty tail as much as to say to his wood- 




Nest and Eggs of American Redstart 



land neighbors, "You can't match me for 
grace and beauty." And well may he be 
proud of his graceful elegance and his achieve- 
ments in procuring his food, for he is one of 
the most charming and energetic of the 
insectivorous birds. He is a creature of 



In the Springtime 



295 



action, always on the move, hvely and alert, 
getting all that is coming to him in quick 
succession. The nest is built in the fork of 
a tree or on some horizontal limb, and is 




Photo by C. H. Browa 

Lady Redstart and Her Home 

constructed of rootlets and twigs in a skillful 
manner. Often plant-down and vegetable- 
silks are woven into the cup much after the 
fashion of the vireo's idea. It is frequently 
adorned on the outside with lichens and other 
substances tending toward obliterative colora- 
tion. If approached, the birds flit from limb 
to limb in a nervous manner, much excited. 



296 



In the Springtime 



and at times appearing as though ready to 
strike an intruder. When frightened from 
the nest they will return if one stands off at 
some distance. 




Nest and Eggs of Blue-winged Warbler 

Down on the edge of a group of dead trees 
a pair of red-headed woodpeckers {Melanerpes 
erythrocephalus) were working away at a 
height of about twenty feet, getting ready 
for their anticipated brood. Tom, a boy of 
fourteen years, came along and noticed the 
couple at work. They were taking their 



In the Springtime 



297 



turns methodically at intervals of twenty 
minutes or thereabouts. Later the birds 
completed the excavated cavity and the 
female had proceeded fairly well with her 
maternal duties. Tom climbed the tree to 




Yotmg Woodpeckers Foraging 

see how she was getting along. He found 
two eggs in the nest. Because of this inti-u- 
sion or some other reason, the birds abandoned 
the nest and eggs and selected another stump 
not far from the first, where they proceeded 
along the same lines until they had excavated 
another hole to their liking, and the mother 
bird laid three pearly-white eggs which in 
due time she hatched. 



298 In the Springtime 

Now the birds were busy gathering insects 
to feed their progeny. A short distance 
from their home was an abandoned tennis- 
court, grown up with grass. This seemed 
to be the favorite feeding-ground of the male 
parent. For hours we watched him coming 
and going, always alighting on the net-post 
where he kept a lookout for insects. Every 
few minutes he would take a rapid flight to 
the ground and again return to the post with 
food, then by an eas}^ course to the young. 
To follow him with the eye in flight conveyed 
the idea of one continuous line of red, white, 
and blue. One day while we were watching 
the tree stump a flicker alighted on it near 
the hole. Like a flash came the parent bird 
from some place nearby, made a dart at the 
flicker, and soon put him to rout. 

The brown thrasher {Harporhy^ichus rufus) 
is an interesting member of the feathery 
tribe who dwells in the solitude of some 
thicket, where he is at home among the 
underbrush. In order to see the inhabi- 
tants of the woods, one should avoid light or 
conspicuous clothing, dress as nearly as 
may be in harmony with the surroundings, 
and step about as gently as possible. You 
may go through a clump of woods talking 
with a companion and rarely see much that 



In the Springtime 



299 



is happening; but go alone, gently, with eyes 
and ears open, and Nature begins to unfold 
some of her secrets. In the early morn the 
thrashers delight in perching on a tree-top 
and filling the surrounding glen with delight- 




Photo by E. W. Arthur 

Nest and Eggs of the Thrasher 

ful melodies. In nesting-time they become 
very seclusive, and an occasional glimpse is 
all that we can get of this handsome bird as 
he flits from limb to limb, jerking and wagging 
his tail. Sometimes they build their nest 
on the ground, but more frequently on some 
bush or small tree. It is characteristic of 
the female when incubating to let you get 



300 



In the Springtime 



very close before she will leave the nest. On 
one occasion while walking through an open 
woods I became conscious of a bright eye 
fixed upon me. The gleam of an orange 




Photo by E. W. Arthur 

On Night Turn 
(Note the protective obliteration.) 



iris accentuated its size, and in a second it 
dawned upon me that a thrasher sitting on 
its nest in a brush heap was the owner of 
the eye. I proceeded to arrange my tripod 
for a picture, but before I secured it she 
left the nest with a graceful flight. She 
flew around and around, making an angry 



In the Springtime 301 

noise, and continued her scolding for some 
time. 

A friend of mine found a nest with eggs on 





^M 




^3 




E^B 




RT- jT JP 


■pr/ ^ • ^ 









Photo by C. H. Brown 

Young Thrasher 

the ground among some mandrakes. Select- 
ing a dark night he visited the nest and, by 
keeping the bird bewildered under the rays 
of a pocket flash-light, was able to set up his 



302 In the Springtime 

camera at a distance of perhaps ten feet, 
arrange a reflector and touch off a flash 
powder, by the Hght of which he succeeded 
in getting a flash-hght of the bird while 
incubating. She seemed to be unconcerned, 
and in fact did not leave the nest. The 
intruder decamped and left the serenity of 
her domestic life undisturbed. 

The young of the thrasher are instantly 
recognized, for they have all the family char- 
acteristics of the parent birds so well defined. 
Frequently as late as the month of August, 
and long after most birds have turned their 
attention to other matters, the thrasher 
devotes its time to domestic duties. Indeed 
after the song season of many birds has 
passed, I have found in the Ohio Valley region 
the nests of thrashers and chewinks with eggs 
and young. 

Measured by the birds and their customs, 
the springtime may extend, as we have seen, 
far into the calendar summer. We begin 
paying our devotions to the goddess while 
yet the snow is on the ground, and we are 
still doing homage at the shrine when the 
mercury hovers about the ninety -five-in-the- 
shade mark, but the change has come so 
gradually that from one day to another we 
have hardly noticed it. If to our worship 



In the Springtime 303 

we brought receptive hearts, stimulated by 
keen vision and hearing, we have learned 
much of practical economic value. 

Without ever having opened the craw of one 
of the feathered tribe, observation with a good 
glass has taught us a multitude of things in 
regard to the feeding of the different species 
and their economic worth to the human race. 
From a commanding position by the nest 
of the yellow-billed cuckoo {Coccyzus ameri- 
canus), we have learned that this bird is an 
invaluable ally in the war against the tent 
caterpillar. The grosbeak is the arch enem}^ 
of the potato bug; young bobwhites devour 
untold numbers of the eggs of the Hessian 
liy, that great ravager of the western grain- 
fields ; the woodpeckers save many an orchard 
and lawn tree from early death as a victim 
of one or another of the borers. Indeed, 
the tons of destruction, if we may apply the 
term, devoured by our birds in a single 
summer day, if it could be estimated, would 
make an appalling figure. 

But beyond all the mass of facts gathered, 
which go to make up the sum total of the 
world's knowledge, is that oxygenation of 
spirit, that freshness of vigor, bodily and 
mental, which we derive from having left 
behind the busy world for these hours of 



304 In the Springtime 

devotion at the shrine. I have always 
thought that there was a more spiritual 
quality in the religion of the Druids than in 
that of most ancient heathen faiths, due prob- 
ably to the fact that their rites and cere- 
monies were performed in the woods and 
forests, and that in their seeking after a Force 
beyond that which they saw, they received 
some measure of the revelation which comes 
to every one who loves the woods and fields. 
To us who have the light of other revelation, 
the contact with Nature brings a closer 
touch and keener sympathy with the great 
scheme of the Author of all creation. And 
who can contemplate this without gaining 
dignity in the contemplation? 



CHAPTER VIII 

A PLEA FOR PROTECTION 

AS I loiter along the banks of a sylvan 
stream about the first of April, looking 
for the return of some of the feathery tribe, 
there falls upon my ears a sound, hoarse and 
grating as described by ornithologists, but 
to my ears most pleasant, for it tells me that 
a fine bird, the belted kingfisher {Ceryle 
alcyon), has arrived for the season. With 
his crest plainly visible, in strong flight he 
is following the course of the winding creek. 
This highly original character is the only 
member of the kingfisher family in our part 
of the country. Yet there is little or no 
protection extended to him by law. It would 
be a calamity indeed if he were eliminated 
from the scenery of the wooded banks, the 
tossing rapids, and the still pool at the foot 
of the falls. Here the silver}^ spray contrib- 
utes a weird touch to the scene as the "lone 
fisherman" hovers for an instant, then with 
20 305 



3o6 



A Plea for Protection 



a spiral sweep makes a plunge, disappears 
for a second, comes up with his finny prey, 
and takes his rapid flight to some old limb, 
where he consumes the fish at leisure. I have 
never heard a word against this striking bird, 




A Delightful Place 



except on one occasion when a friend, who 
is the proud owner of a lily pond, complained 
about one of them making visits to poach on 
his goldfish. The legislation permitting their 
slaughter was passed, I presume, in the 
sole interest of the fisherman. Surely this 
stately bird should not be exterminated; 
its chief diet is minnows and small fry, 
fish rejected by the angler except for use 



A Plea for Protection 



307 



as bait. To my mind the species is at present 
in serious danger of becoming extinct and 
should be protected. 

I was quite anxious to get a few pictures 




Caught 
(Note the minnow in his beak.) 

before he passed into history. So one bright 
Slimmer day, selecting a pool previously 
observed to be much frequented, I con- 
structed a blind out of boughs and weeds on 
the bank three or four feet awa}^ from an old 
root where I had seen the birds alight as they 
patrolled up and down the stream. Truly 
"the watched pot never boils. " After waiting 



3o8 A Plea for Protection 

three or four hours I heard a ratthng call, a 
splash, and through my peephole saw his 
lordship perched, dripping wet, on the very 
spot on which I had trained the camera. 
The shutter clicked, but it might as well 
have "clacked" for he was instantly alert; 
I was discovered, and away went the king- 
fisher, rattling as though in defiance. In 
the short instant of his sojourn, however, 
my purpose was accompHshed. Only the 
person who has had this or a similar hobby 
can appreciate my delight when I developed 
the film and found it had caught the fisherman 
with the small fry in his beak. 

In building their nest Mr. and Mrs. Ceryle 
select some high embankment where they 
excavate a small tunnel from three to six 
feet long, widened at the far end into a 
chamber perhaps fourteen inches in diameter. 
Here the silvery-white eggs are deposited 
usually on the bare floor. They frequently 
build their nest in a bank whose base is washed 
by the waters of a stream. On one occasion 
we opened a hole about half its length and 
could see eggs in the chamber. Bridging 
over the excavation with sticks and leaves, 
we returned in about a week, opened it up, 
and found the old bird on the eggs incubating. 
We replaced the sticks and leaves without 



A Plea for Protection 309 

disturbing the bird, and the following week 
the young were hatched. We thought our 
opportunity to photograph a kingfisher 
family had arrived. As the birds were too 
small to remove from the nest, we left them 
until the next week, when they were still 
too young to pose well. Upon our visit a 
week later, the nest was to all appearances 
undisturbed as we had left it, but an examina- 
nation disclosed that it was empty save for 
the partly decomposed body of a half-fledged 
young bird. Whether the rest of the brood had 
fared forth into the world and this one, a weak- 
ling or cripple perhaps, had been put to death 
or deserted, or whether some dire fate had 
fallen upon the entire household, remains 
to us an unsolved mystery. 

Another bird that is unprotected by our 
law makers is the green heron (BiUorides 
virescens). For weeks we had been studying 
the habits of one of these birds and had about 
decided on the location of a blind or ambush 
for photographing. One day we saw our 
little friend rise from the pool where we had 
so often found him, and take to wing with 
neck stretched forward and legs backward, in 
one continuous line. He disappeared around 
a bend in the stream and presently we heard 
the report of a shotgun. I thought, perhaps 



310 A Plea for Protection 

audibly, "Good-b3^e, little heron, good-bye!" 
Sure enough, in a few minutes we met a party 
of three or four coming towards us with their 
guns, and a little later came to the place where 
the shots had been fired. There was the 
object of our study floating lifeless on the 
surface of the water, with wings spread out, 
not in flight, but in death. I deplored the 
untimely end of the little bird. While looking 
at his lifeless form I was startled by the 
appearance of a stranger, who seemed more 
than casually interested. As I talked with 
him about the death of the heron we heard 
the report of a gun several times, and I have 
no doubt each report rang out the death 
knell of one of our feathered friends. The 
stranger proved to be an officer of the law. 
I was anxious to have him prosecute the 
person who killed the heron, but he pulled 
out a copy of the statute that specifically 
permitted the deed. I was sorry to learn 
that such an act had been passed. As with 
the kingfisher so with the heron; it is of eco- 
nomic value in that it devours a great num- 
ber of destructive insects, as well as crayfish, 
small water fry, and frogs. 

Of the game birds, the ruffed grouse {Bonasa 
umbellus) is far superior to all others and 
well able to take care of itself against its 



A Plea for Protection 311 

most deadly foe — the breech-loading shotgun 
in the hands of a crack shot. He is more 
than a match for all comers. He outwits 
the most carefully trained setters, and only 
the old dogs after years of experience can 
take him unawares. At times, when flushed, 
grouse will alight on a limb of a tall tree, 
squatting near the trunk, where thej^ remain 
unobserved, and this ruse frequently accounts 
for the dogs being unable to find the bird 
again. An "educated" bird will ofttimes 
"jump" from cover, make a bee-line for a 
tree, pass around it and continue its flight, 
thus hidden from sight until beyond gun 
reach. I have had a staunch point along a 
stake and rider fence — a flush, a whirr, leaves 
flying in every direction, and lo! the bird in 
flight passes between two rails of the fence 
and continues on the wing up the other 
side until out of sight. At times I have 
been fairly successful, occasionally making a 
"double, " then again, obliged to return home 
after a hard day's hunt without a single bird. 
Hunting grouse in western Penns5dvania is 
a noble sport, one that requires strong endur- 
ance, a good dog, and skillful shooting to out- 
general the cunning, crafty fowl, who is a 
problem for most hunters. How it stirs 
one's admiration to see the old dog, after 



312 A Plea for Protection 

''rhoding" backward and forward, take a 
trail, follow carefully, head erect, nostrils 
expanded, and every nerve at its highest 
tension in anticipation of a point! But the 
bird is running and ere the point is made, a 
whirr at the crest of the hill draws the eye, 
and behold! he is a- wing, sailing over the 
ravine to the other ridge. 

In the month of April the drimiming of an 
old cock-bird can be heard a long way off, 
like the muffled beating of a bass drum, 
beginning soft and slow, then louder and 
faster until it reaches the highest pitch, and, 
receding, gradually dies away in the distance. 
He continues his love call, as some think it, 
for a considerable time, and if you approach 
carefully you may see him on an old log, 
strutting about like a pea-fowl, his tail ex- 
panded, erect, and in a semicircle, his head 
thrown back and his glossy black ruffs spread 
to their full extent, like the crimped and 
fluted adornment of the days of "Queen 
Bess." About the middle of May he does 
not drum so much, for the courtship is over 
and his lady is "sitting" on the nest beside 
some old log, where she lays as man}^ as 
fifteen creamy-white eggs in a little depression 
lined with a few dried leaves and grass. Their 
color harmonizes so nicely with the surround- 



A Plea for Protection 



313 



ings that it is almost impossible to see them. 
Grouse seem to understand the law of pro- 
tective coloration, and will not flush from 
the nest until they are sure they have been 




Nest and Eggs of Ruffed Grouse 

discovered. Whether deliberately, I do not 
pretend to say, but frequently, as she rises 
from the nest, the hen grouse with her wings 
stirs the leaves so that they fall upon and 
partly conceal the eggs. When once dis- 
turbed she will not let you get so close again. 
As soon as the young are hatched they will 
run to hide, while the mother bird is feigning 



314 A Plea for Protection 

all kinds of decrepitude to attract your 
attention from the cute little brownish fluffs 
of feather scampering here and there for 
cover. I once knew a farmer boy who found 
a nest, took the eggs home, and put them 
under a hen. In due time they hatched out. 
How pretty, cute, and interesting were the 
little birds, and how the foster mother 
strutted about, undoubtedly proud of her 
chicks ! But ere long the little creatures, 
wild by nature, died for want of proper food 
and the maternal care required by their kind. 
Quite different from the grouse in many 
respects is the other member of the same 
family, the bobwhite {Colinus virginianiis), 
the first a woodland bird, the other a dweller 
in the fields. It is fascinating to follow a 
well trained dog as he jumps the rail fence, 
and if the wind is not favorable, slowly and 
carefully follows the fence line for fear of 
flushing the covey. When he gets to wind- 
ward he increases his gait and "rhodes" 
backward and forward through the stubble 
until he gets a whiff of the odor so familiar 
to the experienced dog ; then according to the 
strength of the scent he puts on the brakes. 
I have seen old Fan stop so suddenly that 
she turned a somersault, then recover herself 
sheepishly, if that term may be applied by 



A Plea for Protection 



315 



wa}^ of accommodation to as brave a hunter 
as she. 

Quail are easy marks for the hunter. 
Usually they "roost" in a stubble field in a 




v, ■/ 1 



.J :X-J :^(^^^ - - jt ' T i±. j 



Not Certain 



circle, heads outward, and thus they keep 
warmer during the cold weather. I have 
known pot-hunters to shoot into a covey in 
the early morning before they began to feed, 
killing almost every one. 

It is rare sport to start out with the dogs 
on a November morning after a fall of snow, 
light, but sufficient to show the footprints — 
three toes in front, one behind. Bv this time 



3i6 A Plea for Protection 

the birds are strong of flight and at their 
best. After "heeHng" the dogs, the trail 
is followed. The birds will separate and run 
hither and thither, always, however, coming 
together again so that their tracks cross and 
recross each other over the field. Snow 
always makes the birds wild, and invariably 
when feeding they will take to flight long 
before the dogs are near enough to make a 
point. A good dog takes the stubble field 
with the wind in his favor. Getting a fresh 
scent as the birds are feeding he throws his 
head and tail in the air and "rhodes" on. 
Occasionally the bird will run a short distance 
before taking to wing; then the dog shows 
his lack of training by running helter-skelter 
as the hunter shouts, "Steady, steady, old 
girl!" or "old boy"; or if well trained, the 
noble fellow returns with his tail between 
his legs, as much as to say to his master: 
"It was not my fault they would n't lie to 
cover; it wasn't my fault; give me another 
chance!" The humane master cautions his 
dog to be careful; the brute probably kicks 
his dog unmercifully, and all because of lack 
of knowledge on his part. If he had under- 
stood his dog he would have known from its 
actions that the birds were feeding in the 
cornfield where there was not much shelter, 



A Plea for Protection 



317 



and that if time had been given them they 
would have found cover and the old dog would 




-<i.< 









A Sure Point 





Photo by W. S. Bell 



have made a beautiful point. The birds in 
the beginning of the open season will not 
make a long flight, but pitch abruptly over 
handy cover, such as an old fence grown with 



3i8 



A Plea for Protection 



briars, elder, and grass. Tlie dogs follow 
the windward side with nostrils dilated and 
the delicate membrane of their olfactory 
nerves detects the whereabouts of the little 




Orchard Nest of Mourning Dove 

feathered creature concealed in a tuft of grass 
or a bunch of leaves. When the briars are 
real thick occasionally the little bird does not 
take to wing easily, but in great alarm runs 
about, neck extended, tail expanded, and 
crest erect, calling "peep, peep," as though 
loath to leave cover. 

Frequently when the dogs are working a 



A Plea for Protection 319 

stubble field they put to flight small flocks of 
turtle doves {Zenaidiira macroiira) . Although 
these are scarcely gregarious, they like to 
mingle together in the fall. They visit the 
fields to glean a few grains of corn or wheat 
left after the harvest. On taking to wing they 
make a whistling noise similar to that of a flight 
of American golden-eye ducks, and beat a 
hurried course to the top limb of some old 
dead tree, where they spread their fan-like 
tails just before lighting, then meekly turn 
their heads to take in the situation. Many of 
the birds are shot over the dogs in this way. 
Their flesh is considered a great delicacy by 
some would-be sportsmen. In the nesting 
time they separate in pairs through the woods, 
fields, and orchards, building in every con- 
ceivable place according to fancy. Measured 
by the usual standards, their flimsy nests 
are several sizes too small for the owner. 
When you approach their home the bird drops 
to the ground and feigns a crippled condi- 
tion to entice you away, always careful, how- 
ever, to keep just beyond your reach. 

The nest shown in the accompanying 
photograph was happily located upon a 
broad slab of bark that had fallen from a 
locust tree and was curiously lodged some 
feet off the ground among the branches of 



320 



A Plea for Protection 



undergrowth. Here a few straggling pieces 
of dried grass, sufficient merely to prevent 
the eggs from rolling off, formed the nest. 
To one coming up the hill after inspection 




Two Little Turtle Doves 



of a beautifully constructed vireo's nest in 
the woods below, the first impression would 
be that this crude affair could not be the 
handiwork of so neat and orderly-looking a 
bird as the dove on the tree nearby; but alas! 
fine feathers do not make fine birds, nor do 
good clothes make good housekeepers. No 
better illustration of this is needed than the 



A Plea for Protection 321 

sight of a dove's nest with the eggs or young 
in it. 

Thus in our rambles from the opening of 
spring until the winter snows, we come upon 
a great variety of feathered friends — some 
esteemed for their beauty, some for their 
flesh, some esteemed little or not at all, and 
yet each one has its place in the general 
system of creation, each one has its indi- 
viduality and its own peculiar characteristics 
so well adapted to the sphere in which it 
moves. The question often comes to us: 
Is it for man to say that any of these birds 
shall be deprived of the law's protection merely 
because their habits of life do not appeal to 
him? A brief study of the question from an 
economic point of view, aside from the 
sesthetic, leads us to hope that the time is 
not far distant when the several States will 
afford a uniform protection to all of the native 
fowls of the air, regardless of whether they 
be game birds, song birds, or "other" birds, 
at least until such time as a long-continued 
investigation will prove beyond a doubt 
that the restriction of the numbers of any 
species is of substantive value fro^n an eco- 
nomic standpoint. 



21 



POSTSCRIPT 

WITH the hope that it may be the means 
of increasing the love of nature, and 
thereby adding to the joys of hfe, this Httle 
book is given to the pubHc. 

Laws for the preservation of birds and 
animals, more than any others, need behind 
them a sensitive public opinion. With this, 
the law itself is almost forgotten in its general 
observance, while without this support a 
breach of the law comes in time to take on 
something of virtue instead of crime. What- 
ever tends to spread the knowledge of nature, 
and consequently the love of it, makes it 
harder for the man who kills, either for the 
mere zest of it, for vanity or for purelj'' 
commercial reasons, and thus each convert 
becomes, in a limited sense at least, a game 
warden. 

To the lover of Nature, the whole animal 

and plant world is the quest. Unlimited 

time can be spent in photographing insects, 

birds ' nests and birds, endeavoring to catch 

322 



Postscript 323 

and display the butterfly on the particular 
plant from which it loves to extract the 
nectar, the bird's nest in the tree or the bush 
in its natural surroundings, the old setter 
on a staunch point among the stubble; thus 
by pictorial notes reproducing various events 
in natural history and creating an interest in 
the study of botany, entomology, and ornitho- 
logy — in fact, preserving all the conditions 
that make up the attraction for outdoor 
recreation, which the American people so 
much need. By this indirect method many 
come to be so instructed in the rudiments of 
nature that they are led to see in life a myriad 
of interesting things which they could not 
otherwise enjoy, and the book of Nature,, 
hitherto sealed to the hurrying multitude, 
becomes an open volume to those who, turn- 
ing aside from the rush of modern life, bring 
to its reading a sympathetic mind and an 
ear attuned to catch the melodious voices, 
and so, 

"This our life, exempt from public haunts, 
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks. 
Sermons in stones, and good in everything." 



INDEX 



Afognak Island, 72 

Akuton Pass, 76 

Anecdotes : 

Father Duncan's story, 9 
Indian legend of totem. 
Primitive surgery, 58 

Annette Island, 6 

Aurora Borealis, 170 

B 

Barabara, Indian, 107 

Baranoff Island, 28 

Bath a la Wilderness, 128, i 

174 

Bay of Islands, 184, 221 
Bear feeding, 57 

at camp, 61 

catching, 102 

glacier, 62 

grizzly, vitality of, 104 

Kadiak, 81 

size of, 116 

trailing, 95, 98, I14, 117 
Beaver, 189, 209, 217 
Bee's nest, 148 
Bell, Mr., 146 
Benjamin Creek, 156 
Berries, 30 

blueberries, 150, 165 

bunch berries, 212 



20 



7i, 



partridge berries, 166 

salmon berries, 165 

strawberries, 3, 30 
Bidarka, 21, 116 
Birch, 167, 203, 206, 211 
Bird lime, 281 
Birds: 

albatross, black-footed, 29, 

American golden-eye, 197, 

319 

American goldfinch, 277 

American redstart, 278, 293- 

296 
belted kingfisher, 305-309 
blue-gray gnat catchers, 274 
bobwhite, 303. 3i 4 
brown thrasher, 298 
Canada geese, 59 
Canada jays, 207 
cardinals, 248, 250 
chewinks, 302 
cliff swallows, 284 
cormorants, 144 
cowbird, 257, 261, 279 
crane, sandhill, 183 
crossbill, 179, 180 
crows, 82, 118 
cuckoo, yellow-billed, 303 
eagles, 27, 82, 88, 11 1, 118 
fish ducks, 50 
flickers, 264, 298 
"gony," 29 



325 



326 



Index 



Birds — Continued 

great homed owl, 240 
great northern diver, 169 
greater scaup duck, 65 
grouse, 169, 310, 313 

Canada, 131 
gulls, 52, 66, 70, 80, 140, 

186, 218 
harlequin ducks, 112 
heron, great blue, 27 

green, 268, 310 
herring gulls, 94, 186 
indigo bunting, 255 
kingfisher, 203-216, 305, 310 
kitti wakes, 109 
loon, 170, 186, 188, 216 
magpies, 86 
merganser, 193, 216, 218 

red-breasted, 50 
Mother Carey's chick, 121 
osprey, 216 
phalaropes, 64 
ptarmigan, 99, 104, 152, 
158, 166 

hawk, 159 
quail, 314-316 
ravens, 72 

red-eyed vireo, 259-320 
redpolls, 204 
red-wing blackbird, 283 
rose-breasted grosbeak, 271, 

303 

ruby-throated humming 

bird, 275 

ruffed grouse, 310-313 

scarlet tanager, 266 

sea-parrot, 91 

snipe, 174 

sparrow, song, 234, 286-288 
white-crowned, 113 
white- throated, 209 



spotted sandpiper, 192 

teal, 59 

tern, Arctic, 109 
white, 92 

thistle bird, 279 

thrush, wood, 288 
Wilson's, 196 

titlark, 196 

tree swallows, 213 

tufted titmouse, 254 

turtle doves, 318-320 

whisky jack, 208 

woodpeckers, downy, 277 
red-headed, 296, 303 
Birds, aquatic, 17 

protection of, 321 
Black flies, 190 
Black snake, 291 
Brooks, Alfred H., 2 
Bruce, the Steamer, 181 
Butterflies: 

red-spotted purple, 279 

tiger swallow-tail, 214 
Bydarky, The, 175 



Cache, 161 

Camera, Auto Graflex, 182 

Camp afire, 55 

Camping under difficulties, 48, 

154, 165, 204 
Cape Hinchinbrook, 43 
Cape St. Elias, 41 
Carlisle Institution, 14 
Caribou, 183 
Cathedral Rock, 66 
Cat hunt, 241 
Cheechalker, 127, 128, 131, 

145 173 
Church, Russian, 68 



Index 



327 



Clark, W. E., Governor of 

Alaska, 3, 15 
Columbia glacier, 64 
Controller Bay, 41, 42 
Cook's Inlet, 176 
Coon hunt, 238 
Cordova, 44 
Creoles, 72 
Crevasses, 33 
Crossing the stream, 106 
Crow's nest, 82, 118 

D 

Ball's sheep, 146 
Deer Lake, 190 
Devil's clubs, 146 
Dixon's Entrance, 4 
Dogs: 

catching fish, 52 

caught in trap, 58 

catching salmon, 53 

in action, 226, 232, 240 
Duncan, Rev. William, 6-19 

E 

Economic value of birds, 303 
Edgecumbe, Mount, 29 
Esau, 127, 130 



Fairweather Range, 30 
Fellow townsman's camp, 171 
Ferrets, 224, 226, 234 
Fish, black, 17 
Fisher, Hon. Walter L., 2 
Fishing parties, 182 
Flashlight hunting, 197, 243 



Flowers : 

bluebells, 159 

crow's foot, 81 

daisies, 159 

forget-me-nots, 81, 159 

pinks, 82 

trailing arbutus, 189 

trillium, 286 

violets, 159 

wild geranium, 159 
Fort Liscom, 64 



Glacier, formation of, 32, 34 

Columbia, 34, 64 

Malaspina, 41 

Muir, 30 

Valdez, 44 
Gravenna Bay, 47 
Greek Church, Russian, 28, 72 
Greek priests, 28 
Ground hog, 238 
Guides, natives as, 125 
GuU Island, 109 
Gun, modem, 157 

H 

Hessian fly, 303 
Hudson Bay Company, 29 
Humber, Lower, 210 
Humber River, 190, 214 
Humor of Indian guides, 164 



Ice fields, 32 

floe, 22 
Icy Straits, 29 
Iliamnia, 70 

crater of, 176 



328 



Index 



Indians, 107 

barabara, 107 

chanting, 163 

family, 56 

feeding on "porky," 163 

how they live, 107 

humor of, 164 

legend of totems, 20 

making snuff, 167 

superstitions, 170 

tuberculosis among, 14 
Infection unknown in Alaska, 

126 
Italians' camp, no, 117 



Jansen, Capt. Michael, 4, 67 
Juneau, 24 

K 

Kadiak bear, 81 
Kamlaykas, 117 
Katella, 41, 43 
Kenai, 124, 175 

"hot time" at, 126 
Kenai Mountains, 152 
Kenai Peninsula, 67 
Kenai River, 25, 130, 134 

killing moose on, 25 
Ketchikan, 4 
Knight's Island, 64, 78 
Kodak, Eastman, 115 
Kodiak Island, 72, 73 

village of, 72, 79, 120 



Lake Skilak, 144 
Lighthouses, 4 



M 

Madonna, picture of, 28 
Mandrakes, 301 
Marmot, 158, 162 
Metlakatla, 6 
Moon, illusion of, 170 
Moore, Capt., 18 
Moose, 148 

feeding, 172 

in velvet, 162 

yards, 168 
Moraine, 62 

Mosquitos, 131, 132, 136, 191 
Mount Edgecumbe, 29 

St. Elias, 30-39 

St. Logan, 30 
"Mushee" — sheep, 164 
Muskrat, 216 

N 

Native boys, 38 
Newfoundland, 181 
"Nippers," 191 
North Sydney, 181 

O 

Obliterative coloration, 295 
Old Twitchen road, 184 
Opossum, 244, 245 



Papooses, 21 
Petersburg, 21 

Photographing natives, 36-38 
Pine trees, 206 
Porcupine, 163 
"Porky," 140 



Index 



329 



Port aux Basques, 181 

Portland, Steamer, 18 
Postscript, 322 
Pot hunters, 315 
Preservation of species, 159 
Prince William Sound, 43 
Protection of birds, 321 
Protective coloration, 313 

Q 

Quicksand, experience in, 63 

R 

Rabbits, hunting, 223-235 
Raccoon hunt, 241, 242 
Raft, constructing, 187 
Redoubt crater, 176 
Resurrection Bay, 66, 67 



Salmon, 48 

catching, 53, 54 

eggs of, 54 

feeding, 215 

gulls picking out eyes of, 

53 

hordes of, 50 

humpback, 48 

spawning, 51 
Salt lick, 172 
Seal, 17 
Seal Cove, 218 
Sea Lion Rocks, 67 
Seals, baby, 220 

breeding grounds, 220 

characteristics of, 220 
Seldovia, 68, 123, 173, 179 



Seward, 68 
Shanghai, 166 
Sheep, 152 

Ball's, 157 
Sheep Creek, 96 
Shellicoff Straits, 71 
Shiras, George III, 156 
Sitka, 27, 29 
Slaughter of game, 25 
Snow-slide, 96 
Snow storm, 100 
Snuff making, 167 
"Sourdough," 127, 130, 153 
Stranger in camp, 140 
Sycamores, 247 



Tenderfoot, 123, 131, 132, 153 
Tom, 296 

after flickers, 264 
Totem poles, 19, 35 

family register, 19 

laparotomy, 22 

legend of, 19 

symbolical of, 19 

witch doctor, 22 
Treadwell Mines, 24 
Trees, 

balsam, 184 

birch, 146 

Cottonwood, 146 

fir, 184 

pine, 206 

spruce, 146 

white, value of, 211 

sycamores, 247 
Trout, as food, 205, 216 

food of, 213, 215 
Turnagain Bay, 175 



330 



Index 



u 



Unalaska, 76 



Vaccination, 181 
Valdez, 44 

flood at, 44, 64 

leaving, 54 
Vancouver Island, 4 



W 

Whale, 66 

White sheep, 152, 156, 157 
Wrangel Narrows, 16, 17, 26 
port of, 18 



Yakutat, 34 



A Selection from the 
Catalogue of 

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 



Complete Catalogue sent 
on application 



The Log of the 
North Shore Club 

Paddle and Portage on the Hundred Trout Rivers of 
Lake Superior 

By Kirkland B. Alexander 

With over 40 Illustrations. 16mo. $1.25 net 
{By mail $1.40) 

The land that lies to the north of Lake Superior, 
where the great god Naniboujou rules over mile 
upon mile of unreclaimed wilderness, has long beena 
favorite retreat of the fisher and camper, who finds 
in the hush of its gaunt forests and on the twink- 
ling ripples of its inland lakes a secure haven from 
the busy din of the cities. In Kirkland B. 
Alexander's " Log of the North Shore Club," the 
primeval beauty of this region is described by one 
who is an alert and appreciative student of nature. 
Mr. Alexander tells of his camping and fishing 
experiences along these sequestered waters and of 
the amusing happenings that seasoned his trips, 
undertaken with companions after his own heart. 
The book, which is well illustrated, is written in a 
sprightly vein and is decidedly entertaining reading. 



G. P. Putnam's Sons 

New York London 



Written in a vein that enchants not only the 
sportsman and naturalist, but the general 
reader as well. 



Recreations of a Sportsman 
on the Pacific Coast 

By 
Charles Frederick Holder 

Author of " Life in the Open," etc. 

8vo. With 80 FuWpage Illusirations. Net, $2.00 
By mail, 2.20 

Mr. Holder has fished in the deep sea of the 
Pacific and in the mountain streams that are hidden 
away in the high Sierras and Cascades, protected 
from the rude intrusions of the crowd and accessi- 
ble only to the seasoned mountaineer. The tussles 
he has had with game fish, retold in the dramatic 
style of which Mr. Holder is the master, will thrill 
the most phlegmatic reader, while the descriptions 
of nature which the author presents will fill the 
reader with a yearning for the spacious country of 
mountain, desert, sea, and air, with whose unfre- 
quented trails and remote recesses the author is so 
familiar. The book is copiously illustrated with 
pictures of game, sporting incidents, and natural 
scenery. 

G. P. Putnam's Sons 

New York London 



sporting Books hy Theodore Roosevelt 

Hunting Trips of a 
Ranchman 

Sketches of Sport on the Northern Cattle Plains 

Standard Library Edition. With numerous engravings from designs 
by Frost, Gifford, Beard, and Sandham. 8°. $2.50. 

Alleghany Edition. Printed on high-grade Old Chester Laid, con- 
taining many rare old Western views and portraits, secured and especially 
engraved for this edition. 8°. Full buckram, gilt top, $5.00. 

Dakota Edition. 2 vols. Crown 8°, with frontispieces. Cloth, gilt 
top, full gilt back. Each, $1.50. 

Sagamore Edition. 2 vols., with frontispieces. Cloth, 16°. Each, 

50 cents. 

"One of those distinctively American books which ought to be welcomed 
as contributing to raise the literary prestige of the country all over the 
world."- — A^. Y. Tribune. 

" One of the rare books which sportsmen will be glad to add to their 
libraries. . . . Mr. Roosevelt may rank with Scrope, Lloyd, Harris, 
St. John, and half a dozen others, whose books will always be among 
the sporting classics." — London Saturday Review. 

The Wilderness Hunter 

With an Account of the Big Game of the United States 
and its Chase with Horse, Hound, and Rifle 

Standard Library Edition. With illustrations by Remington, Frost, 

Sandham, Eaton, Beard, and others. 8°. $2.50. 

Alleghany Edition. Printed on high-grade Old Chester-Laid, con- 
taining many rare old Western views and portraits, secured and specially 
engraved for this edition. 8°. Full buckram, gilt top, $5.00. 

Dakota Edition. 2 vols. Crown 8°, with frontispieces. Cloth, gilt 
top, full gilt back. Each, $1.50. 

Sagamore Edition. 2 vols., with frontispieces. Cloth, 16°. Each, 
50 cents. 

" A book which breathes the spirit of the wilderness and presents 
a vivid picture of the phase of American life which is rapidly passing 
away, with clear, incisive force." — New York Literary News. 

" For one who intends to go a-hunting in the West this book is 
invaluable. One may rely upon its information. But it has better 
qualities. It is good reading for anybody, and people who never hunt 
and never will are sure to derive pleasure from its account of that part of 
the United States, relatively small, which is still a willdemess. " — New 
York Times. 



G. P. Putnam's Sons 

New York London 



1 



A thoroughly enjoyable sportsman's book." 

N. Y. Sun 



Hunting Big Game 

with Gun and with Kodak 

A Record of Personal Experience m the United 
States, Canada, and Old Mexico 

By William S. Thomas 

Author of Trails and Tramps in Alaska and Newfoundland 

Octavo, 240 pages. With 70 Illustrations from Original 
Photographs by the Author. Net, $2.00. By mail, $2.20 

The author makes a sportsmanlike plea for the use of a 
camera rather than rifle in the quest of big game. The 
appeal cannot fail to reach the hearts of all those who are 
interested in preserving the life of wild animals rather than 
unmercifully slaughtering them with modern firearms. 
Mr. Thomas procures as much pleasure from his humane 
method of hunting as does the so-called "sportsman" 
whose chief desire is to kill. 

The territory covered in the book is not only remarkable 
for its extent, but also for the vivid and picturesque de- 
scriptions of every locality visited. The remarkable 
kodak pictures give one interesting glimpses of large game 
in their native haunts from Canada to Mexico. 

" Every chapter is lively, diverting, and full of good 
things. The illustrations are as interesting as they are 
varied in scope." — Pittsburg Times. 



G. P. Putnam's Sons 



New York 



London 



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